I'll be Good
by Commander Fiction
Summary: (His breath hitches and his heart pounds in his ears. Then he hears movement above him. It's Bones, peeking down at him, but Jim clamps his eyes shut. "You okay?" Bones asks, his drawling southern accent thick like honeydew from sleep.) The story of Jim&Bones. Whump. Lots of Angst. Academy Era. All 3 years-if I can do it. Platonicness at maximum. Jaymes Young 'I'll Be Good'
1. Chapter 1

**I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 1**

The constant throb in his skull doesn't go away that night, nor does it the next morning when his alarm goes off at eight-thirty. The noise is like nuke sirens in his ears as he struggles to become coherent. As the blond pushes against the mattress of his bed, the covers slip from his body, revealing the fact that he's still fully dressed. Actually, he's still wearing the clothes that the one bastard puked on.

With a groan he slams a clumsy hand over the alarm clock, knocking it from the side table, not stopping the incessant noise. He growls this time as he gets up and presses the off button on the damn clock.

Then, as quickly as he had gotten up, he collapses back down, not finding the energy within himself to get up for the day. But, he can't stay here forever; Captain Pike would have his ass on a silver platter if he didn't get up. Plus, that'd mean he failed on Pike's dare; to do better than his father. Childish the reason may be, but it got him here didn't it?

Today is signups. Not very exciting, but that's alright, it'll give him a day to get used to his new surroundings. This certainly isn't Riverside, Iowa anymore.

Captain Pike himself, instead of a counselor, will be arranging his classes. Though that slightly unnerves the blond. He doesn't need to be treated any different than the other kids, that just means more attention and more enemies for him, because no one on this earth wants to be Jim Kirk's friend, especially when he has the tendency to leave a trail of chaos wherever he goes.

Jim sighs and finally gets up, changing into the crimson red uniform that the school provides them with and quickly washing his face, for it still has bloodstains drizzling from his nostrils.

With new energy, the boisterous blond strolls rather casually from his temporary quarters and heads out the building. The dorm he's staying in is for transfers, people who've just arrived and have not gotten their classes scheduled and a roommate assigned.

As the blond walks out, he's grateful for the gentle summer breeze and he enjoys the scenic views, for the campus itself is rather old fashioned. Some buildings even use the classic style of brick and modern glass windows, which he's rather appreciative of; the theme adds character to the place.

The cement path leads him only deeper into the campus; he's welcomed by long shadows cast by the tall trees and lush bushes. Jim comes to stop right outside the counselor building; in there Pike said he'd meet him.

Slapping on an arrogant grin, Jim walks inside, though much to his disappointment, there's not very many people there, and definitely no hot girls to hit on. Jim fixes his frown and walks up to the desk, winking rather casually to brunette headed girl, though he'd rank her a four.

"What's the name?" The uniformed man asks, pulling up a transfer list on his computer.

The blond blushes slightly and casts his gaze down, one hand going up to itch behind his neck, "Uhh, it's James Kirk."

But, to his relief, the man doesn't make a comment on the name, either he doesn't care, or he doesn't know, either way the blond is just glad.

"Alright, Captain Pike will be ready for you in a bit. But here, let me get your picture."

"Oh okay." Jim replies and watches as the man steps out from behind the desk, "Okay, stand here for me." The man instructs and the blond obliges and gives a lopsided grin as his picture is taken rather quickly, "Alright, go ahead and sit down Cadet, Captain Pike will be ready shortly."

Jim nods his thanks and as he turns to go sit down, a certain bastard notices the glint of his golden hair and recognizes him from across the room, "Kirk?"

The blond noticeably jumps and swivels around to face the man who said his name, but he's not surprised when he sees it's that bones guy. Something about a wife taking the whole planet in the divorce. Yeah, that guy.

"Bones right?" Jim alleges as he takes a seat beside the southern man.

Though the brunette huffs and scowls at him, "The name's Leonard." Jim just smiles and laughs lightly, "Ahh, close enough."

"Hardly." McCoy grumbles and continues to smooth out his uniform, he as well wearing the red, "You owe me." Jim comments after a moment of silence.

McCoy gives him an incredulous look, "For what?"

The blond shakes his head disgustedly, "You threw up on me!"

Now it's the southern man's turn to laugh, "I warned you. Plus you drank down my whole damn flask you asshole."

"Oh hardly, it tasted like shit anyways." Jim retaliates, not meeting the man's eyes as they shoot daggers at his skull, "Ungrateful bastard." McCoy mutters under his breath, causing the blond to sigh dramatically, "Here, I'll make it up to you. I'll take us to a real bar where you can buy us the good stuff."

McCoy's eyes narrow at him and suddenly he feels exposed and slightly guilty for somehow agitating the southerner beside him, "Look kid, I don't know what game you're playing at, but there's no way in hell I'm buying you a drink."

"James Kirk, the Captain is ready to see you." The man at the counter calls.

Jim draws a breath and rises from his seat, "I'll see you later tonight Bones. You owe me that drink." The blond replies as he strolls down the hall.

"I'm not buying you a drink! And the name's Leonard!" McCoy shouts after him, but before the blond can make any other remarks; he's being lead away to the opposite side of the building.

Jim's led through maze of halls before coming to a stop outside of Pike's office, and he watches as the fogged glass slides back mechanically to reveal the Captain perched at his desk. The blond puts on his best smile and graciously walks in and takes a seat at the chair Pike gestures at him.

"I'll be honest; I'm surprised that you showed up on time." Pike admits, taking a moment to lean back into his chair and rock it slightly. Jim chuckles, "I thought the same thing."

The Captain only offers him a smile before continuing, "So, you said you wanted to do this in three years right?"

Jim nods.

"Good, because I packed your schedule."

The blond splutters, "You already made my schedule?"

Pike nods his head, placing his hands on the surface of the desk before him, "Well, I brought you here didn't I? Plus, there are a few gaps that need filling. Just hear what I have first and then we can tweak it."

"Alright."

Pike hums as he pulls out the files, taking a quick glance over them, "Okay, for first semester…on Mondays you have hand to hand combat at five am, Tuesday you have Starfleet History at eight, Wednesday I put you in Interspecies Ethics at eight and Prime Directive at eleven-and yes before you ask they're both required classes. On Thursday you'll have Exobiology at nine, and then on Fridays I signed you up for Xenolinguistics at two, thought you'd enjoy it. So, anything else you want to add?"

Jim sighs, tapping a finger to his chin as he thinks, "I want hand to hand combat training on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays." He decides firmly and Pike huffs, "You sure Jim? That's at five am?"

The blond smiles, "Yeah, I'm sure. And on Monday is there any classes open?"

Pike rolls his eyes, "Of course, there's plenty. What'd you thinking about?"

"I don't know, some science perhaps?" Jim suggests with a shrug and Pike nods, "Okay, they have Astrophysics at eight? That'll be after you hand to hand."

"That'll do, and on Tuesdays, do they have a class on engines or some type of engineering I can take?" Jim asks and the Captain pauses to take a quick look, "Yes, on Tuesdays they have Basic Warp Design at two. I heard the professor's mean though."

"Its fine, I'll take that class." He replies with a nod, "Oh you might like this. They have a Forensic Psychology class on Thursdays, interested?" Pike offers, gazing up from his screen and to the bright blue eyes looking back.

"Uhh, yeah, what time on Thursday?"

Pike makes a quick double check, "It's at eleven."

"Okay, I can do that."

"Alright, this is what I have for you now. Mondays, hand to hand and Astrophysics. Tuesdays, Starfleet History and Basic Warp Design. Wednesdays hand to hand, Interspecies Ethics, and Prime Directive. Thursdays Exobiology and Forensic Psychology. And Fridays hand to hand and Xenolinguistics. Then second semester on Wednesdays I'll switch Interspecies Ethics with Protocol and Prime Directive with the Extension Course, because they're all semester classes. Sound all good to you? And don't worry about not liking one of your classes, you can switch only within the first week, but you cannot switch out of required classes." Pike informs him, and the whole time he hums and nods his head in agreement.

"Okay, so we're done here?" Jim questions, almost ready to leave now, but Pike shakes his head, "No, now I have to assign you a roommate and give you one of these." The Captain responds and pulls out a Starfleet issued PADD from his desk, "Here, this will have your class schedule in place. And let me get your room number and ID card…"

Jim just waits patiently, tapping his foot against the ground; he never was good at holding still. "Ahh, here you go…" Pike begins as he hands the blond Cadet his ID card, "You're at the freshmen dorms, Roddenberry. South of here. You'll be in room 227a, that'll be on the second floor. Your roommate is Francis Donavan; he's about your age, only three years older." Captain Pike tells him, not staring up from his screen until he's finished.

"Alright, now you're free to go and don't forget to take the PADD and double check your schedule." Pike continues and watches as the blond grabs the PADD, nods his thanks and dashes out the door, showing himself out.

When Jim enters the waiting room, the bones guy isn't there, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. He can almost feel a rock drop into his stomach; he doesn't know why he's thwarted, just something about the man makes his mood lighten. Maybe it's the man's southern charm, who knows?

The blond exits the building, PADD clutched tightly to his hip as he heads back to his original dorm; he has to grab his clothes before he goes to his new room. It only takes him a few minutes of walking and looking slightly confused to make it back to gather his clothes, his only belongings, and head back outside into the refreshing air.

It's a Sunday, Sunday the 19th, of August, so he's not surprised when he sees that not many people are out enjoying the summer air. Most students are taking leisure time before school starts. It starts tomorrow. Jim sighs and finds the freshmen dorms, labeled Roddenberry. He only surveys the old architecture briefly before allowing himself inside, taking to the elevator and pressing the button to the second floor.

"227a." He murmurs to himself as he searches for it, almost spinning around until he catches the number. It's to the left of the elevator; he'll have to remember that.

Pulling out his ID card, he takes a swipe at the scanner and the door complies with the command and chirps open. Satisfied, Jim enters and shuts the door behind himself, welcoming the vacant room. The air is stale and smells quite off. Empty the dorm room may be, but the full trashcan and discarded clothes over the couch says otherwise.

He huffs and scans the room. There's to two doors to the right, both being bedrooms, then there's a small living area with a TV and couch and a bathroom. That's it, unless one counts the giant window bathing in the rich sunlight.

Jim steps further into the room almost cautiously and pokes his head into the bedrooms, the one furthest from the door is occupied with more clothes and school supplies littered about the bed and desk. He just nods and goes into the other room, Francis Donovan must've beat him here.

Setting the clothes, PADD and ID card on the drawer, the blue eyes only have to take a quick glance around to realize how tight it is. One bed in the corner, opposite is a black desk and by the door is the drawer, the walls are white and the floor is a tan carpet. Jim merely smirks to himself and jumps into the bed, feeling the rough red sheets against his skin.

Only staying for a few minutes, the blond gets bored and skips into the living room. Jumping onto the couch with a smile, he switches the TV on and flips through the channels, but there's nothing worth watching. There's not even anything on the sports channel. With a growl he gets up and makes for the door not bothering to lock it behind himself, there's got to be something to do on a Sunday morning and boy is he wrong.

He walks around aimlessly for two hours, but he does have to admit the campus is nice. There are nature trails, gardens, ponds, benches, lush grasses and towering trees, it's quite relaxing actually. So in the end, his pointless walk isn't too pointless.

When he returns to his room, 227a, a certain someone is home.

"Who are you?" A tall brooding man implores, towering over the bond by a couple of inches with biceps bigger than his head. Jim swallows, "I'm Jim Kirk, so I'm guessing you're Francis then?"

Francis nods, fixating his brown eyes at his new roommate, "When'd you get assigned here?"

Jim hums lightly, "Just a couple of hours ago."

The man then nods and runs a hand through his black hair, "Well then, make yourself at home."

"Will do." Jim replies and scurries off and into his room, closing the door.

He stretches a yawn and sprawls out across the bed. Despite the fact it's barely noon, Jim finds himself falling asleep, though in his defense, he has been nursing quite a headache.

When the blond awakens from his dreamless sleep, it's almost six in the afternoon, "Shit." He breathes and gets off his bed with a loud moan.

Jim strolls out casually and finds his roommate on the couch, munching on a slice of pizza. It's then that the blond notices his stomach rumbling in hunger. Almost nervously, Jim creeps over and makes room for himself on the couch beside Francis, taking a quick glance at the TV to see an old sitcom playing, one of which he doesn't recognize.

"Hey Francis." He greets gruffly, finding that his voice is barely audible after his six hour nap.

His roommate sighs and doesn't even offer him a glance, let alone a slice of pizza. Jim tries not to take it personally, only occasionally sending a look over at the pizza, smelling the aroma of baked cheese and spicy pepperoni. Dear lord his mouth his beginning to water.

"Plan on sharing?" Jim asks with a bit of a laugh, but Francis just growls, "Nope."

Damn, he isn't going to enjoy staying with this man is he?

"Okay, that's fine with me." The blond replies and gets off the couch and makes his way to the door with one thing on mind. Food.

Jim leaves the Roddenberry dorms behind and exits the campus entirely, which is located in the former city Fort Baker, California, right across the Golden Gate Bridge (which still stands) from San Francisco. Apart from the large Starfleet campus, housing eight-hundred students and nearly a hundred professors, is a decent sized city. The city, appropriately named Abrams Town, gains most of its revenue from the Starfleet trainees.

Now Jim is one of those trainees and he'd hate to say, but he's pretty sure he looks awful in this bright red uniform, which is now far too hot to walk around in without the aid of the trees sheltering him from the heat. But his determination to get food is too strong, so he continues forward until he comes to what seems to be a family owned burger place called Burger Connection.

The door dings as he pushes it open and allows the air-conditioned restaurant to cool him down.

A pretty blond lady, with a name tag which reads 'Katie' greets him from behind the desk, "Is there anything I can get you sir?"

Jim spins around on his heels to faces her, summoning up one of his charming smiles, "Uhh, do you guys sell cheeseburgers by any chance?"

The lady nods her head, "Did you read the title of the restaurant before you came in?" The blond sighs, "Apparently not. So is that a yes or a no?" He inquires, leaning against the counter with his forearms flat against the surface.

"One cheeseburger coming up. That'll be three dollars fifty-four cents." Katie tells him and he hands her his card, "That'll do." She mutters as she swipes it and makes the appropriate charge, "Okay your order number is two hundred and three." The lady continues, handing him back his card and giving him the printed receipt.

"Thank you." Jim replies, taking the items and seating himself on the cushioned bench off to the side of the room.

The sounds of sizzling food echoes from the kitchen, and the aroma is enough to make his stomach growl in hunger. Six hour nap be damned, he'll have to make sure he doesn't do that again, he isn't going to be skipping another meal if he's going to be this hungry.

Only a few minutes pass by when his number is called and rises from his seat and walks over to the counter, "Thanks." Jim tells her and takes the food, heading for the door.

Once outside, he embraces the warmth of the heated air, but it makes his clothes stick to his skin. Jim sighs, taking a bite of his burger and mentally reminding himself that he'll have to come back some day and get another one. His trip back is peaceful and no trouble comes his way, well, until he makes it back to his dorm room.

He reaches his door, remembering it's to the left of the elevator and sticks his hand into his pocket, looking for an ID card that appears to be vacant. Frowning, Jim searches through each spot the card could possibly be. Then it dawns on him, he left the damn card on his drawer.

"Ugh." He grumbles and begins to pound on the door, "Francis! Open up please." Jim calls out between bites of his cheeseburger.

There's commotion from inside until finally the door unlocks and swings ajar, only it's not Francis welcoming him.

"Uhh…" Jim trails off, desperately double checking the room number, it's correct.

"Hey Francis, is this the little blonde you were talking about?" The man with ragged brown hair inquires, glancing over his shoulder. Then Francis appears from behind, "Yeah, that's my roommate, Jim Kirk."

The newcomer huffs, "Like George Kirk?"

Jim noticeably gulps, "Yeah."

"Well, I'm Jake Finnegan." Finnegan smiles grimly and allows Jim to enter, "Looks like you guys have been partying." Jim comments, taking in the appearance of his dorm room, somehow it's gotten messier.

"Yeah, and I'm awfully hungry. Nice cheeseburger you got there Jimmy." Finnegan peers over him, taking a glance at the food in his hand, "It's pretty tasty." Jim replies with the nod of his head.

"C'mon Finnegan, leave him alone. I'm not cleaning up after you again." Francis complains and Jim takes a glance over at the dread written across his roommate's face, "Back off Finnegan." He growls when the stranger makes a grab for his food, "What's wrong with you?"

"He's drunk." Francis states plainly, crossing his arms as he sees the nearing fight about to happen.

"C'mon Jimmy, just one bite." Finnegan whines, and when Jim doesn't comply, he grabs the blond by his hair brings a knee to his gut.

Jim gags and feels the burger ripped from his clenched grasp, "Mmm, this is some good stuff." Finnegan announces, munching on the last of his burger, "Asshole." Jim mutters and takes a swing at Finnegan's head.

The moment his fist makes contact with the man's face, he tumbles over, obviously drunk, "If you guys are gonna fight, don't do it in here." Francis tells them.

Wiping the blood from his lip, Finnegan nods, "Alright, c'mon Jimmy, lets settle this outside."

Normally this is where Jim finishes him off, or merely sends him on his way, but the way Finnegan says his name with such disdain demoralizes him. His pride is too strong to back down, so he simply nods and follows Finnegan out, with Francis straggling behind them.

By the time they get outside, Finnegan has already eaten the rest of Jim's food and is now licking his fingers clean. Jim just moans and shakes his head, "Alright, let's get this over with."

The brunette chuckles, dropping his red jacket and Jim does the same. Both raise their fists to fight and Francis can only sit back and shake his head in disgust.

Finnegan is the first to make a move, lunging forward and throwing a fist at the pretty blond's head, but being drunk makes his movements sluggish and Jim easily sidesteps him and laughs. The blond then ducks when the enraged Finnegan tries to land another blow, but unfortunately Jim doesn't see the next one coming.

Jim has always been good on his feet and being able to coordinate both his hands and feet to work to his advantage has always been his specialty, but he's never good when pinned to the ground. And what makes it worse is the fact, which he'll soon find out, that Finnegan is a former wrestler.

So if one is to know that, it shouldn't be surprising when Jim finds himself, smashed to the floor, blood drooling from his mouth and a larger body pinning him down. Finnegan basically straddles him as he fights the heavier weight, but being confined to the ground on his stomach, there's not much he can do to stop it.

"Finnegan, please don't." Francis nearly screeches at the man.

Jim feels his breathing coming quicker until it comes to a complete stop when an arm slides across his throat, cutting off his air supply.

"Finnegan you're drunk! Stop!" Francis wails, but despite the fervor in his voice, he doesn't do anything to help his blond roommate.

Jim makes one last attempt to roll Finnegan off, but it's futile. His lungs begin to scream for oxygen and the burning in his chest starts to rise. Blackness creeps into the edges of his vision and right before he's on the verge of falling into the abyss of darkness, there's a single familiar voice that penetrates his ears.

"Stop!"

 **Author's Note: I fixed Pike's rank from Admiral to Captain, I can't believe I missed that detail. But thank you to the guest that pointed it out to me!**

 **New story new life right? Since I just finished my other book "Confused" I thought it'd be appropriate to create my next book, "I'll be Good", which is based off of the song called _I'll Be Good_ by _Jaymes Young_ which I suggest you listen to. I probably put five plus hours of research into this book so I think it'll turn out better than my last book, there's also a bunch of mini Easter eggs scattered through, including real people, fictional characters and things from my previous stories. So, I hope yall will join me for my next adventure, I plan on going through all three years Jim spends in the academy, and don't worry, there'll be more Bones, because Jim and Bones pairing forever. Sorry they're my favorite, and I'm looking for Beta reader, so if interested pm me. Live Long and Prosper.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 2**

If Leonard McCoy wouldn't have gotten lost that day, desperately trying to look casual and not utterly lost, he wouldn't have seen that cocky son of a bitch getting choked out on the floor. And he certainly wouldn't have saved him. But since he did get lost, and is now currently passing by the Roddenberry dorms, full of the immature freshman of the campus, he does see the fight, and he sees Kirk losing it.

A quite large man is on top of the blond, his left arm slicing off the air supply in his trachea. If that man keeps that up, Kirk will be a dead man for sure. The brain can only last four to six minutes without oxygen, and that's after the victim passes out. By the looks of it, Kirk's already falling unconscious, meaning he's been held there for at least eight seconds.

With a groan, Leonard picks up into sprint, "Stop!" He cries out, hands high above his head to get their attention.

One man, off to the side takes off immediately and runs inside the dorm, but the man on Kirk remains stationary, keeping the blond in the hold, "Get off of him you bastard!" Leonard growls, landing a kick into the man's side.

The brunette man tumbles over, but quickly gathers to his feet and merely chuckles when he sees it's just him. Leonard can feel his stomach twist as he hears Kirk's pitiful gasps of breath as the life surges back into him. The man before him charges, eyes wide, Leonard dodges and manages a jab into the man's ribs, causing him to stumble.

Leonard smells it now, the man's completely drunk. Rolling his eyes, Leonard turns to finish him off with a punch to the head, but the man gets to him first with a fist into his gut. He grunts heavily and almost keels over, but someone steadies him and shoves him out of the way.

"Hey!" He splutters through his coughs, but to his astonishment it's Kirk.

The blond is staggering on his feet, but he manages to land a blow squarely onto the man's jaw, sending him onto the ground in a heap of limbs and blood.

Kirk then turns and offers Leonard a grin before collapsing to his hands and knees, still wheezing for breath, "Kirk, are you alright?" Leonard asks, scrambling to the blond's side to support him before his head meets the hard ground.

All Leonard gets is a nod before Kirk begins to shrug his hands off. Baffled, Leonard huffs incredulously, "Kirk you nearly lost it there, let me help you. I can take you to medical." Almost limp underneath his grasp, Kirk becomes instantly rigid at the mention of 'medical', though Leonard doesn't quite know why, "Yeah that sounds good. Let me walk you over." Leonard firmly agrees with himself, but Kirk shakes his head, "You owe me Bones."

He snorts, "The name's Leonard, and yeah, it'll be fulfilled by walking your sorry ass to medical." The blond shakes his head once more, "I want a drink." Kirk informs him with a raspy voice and Leonard can't help but laugh at the man, "In your dreams."

Kirk makes moan of complaint with the back of his throat and stares deeply into his eyes and Leonard finds himself unable to say no to those gleaming azure eyes. He sighs, recollecting his thoughts, "Fine, one drink. That's all."

The smile the Kirk gives him is uplifting, "Yeah c'mon, let's go before I realize how stupid this is." Leonard grumbles in his southern drawl that only causes the blond's dumb smirk to become bigger.

He then proceeds to hook and an arm around Kirk's waist and sling the kid's other arm across his shoulders before standing completely up. The blond wobbles slightly, and his breath catches in the back of his throat, but Leonard waits a moment for Kirk to gain his bearings as he snatches the blond's jacket off of the ground.

"We good?" He inquires, taking a swift glance at the blond, "Did you just check me out?" Kirk implores with a lopsided grin. Leonard huffs, "Y'know I could just dump you in the streets and forget about you."

"Ahh, there's your southern charm. Knew you had it in you." Kirk smiles stupidly to himself, causing Leonard to roll his eyes, "C'mon, let's get that drink before I kill myself." Leonard mutters, helping the blond get the jacket on before leaving the presence of the Roddenberry dorms.

They trudge along the path in silence, the only sound filling their ears are the falls of their feet against the pavement and Kirk's heavy exasperated breathing. All it takes for Leonard is one look to see that the kid's throat is quite swollen in a purple mess. Though Kirk's very adamant about not going to the hospital, for reasons beyond Leonard's understanding.

"Thanks." Kirk says suddenly, breaking the quiet with his hoarse voice, "No problem Kirk." Leonard replies casually with a shrug and he feels the kid's bright blue eyes staring at him, "Call me Jim."

Leonard turns to look at him, "Okay, Jim, I'm Leonard."

Kirk snorts, though it sounds quite deranged with his bruised windpipe, "Alright Bones."

"Goddamn it." Leonard grumbles and continues to pull Kirk along the path, leading them outside of the campus and to the streets.

Despite the fact that Leonard seems quite lost walking along the cement paths, Kirk seems to know his way around. By now, the blond is walking on his own, but he holds a hand to his ribs and winces if he turns the wrong way.

"So, what is this place exactly?" Leonard implores, gazing about the small town, "Abrams Town. Should have a bar around here somewhere." Kirk responds, taking gulps of air between words, "You sure you're up for this? I can still take you to a hospital."

Kirk shakes his head, "No, I'm fine."

"Like hell you are." Leonard grumbles under his breath, but nonetheless keeps walking alongside the idiot.

It only takes a few minutes for Kirk to spot a bar and bring them inside. But Leonard's about to learn, the kid is literally a trouble magnet. They step inside and welcome the smells of alcohol with a mixture of sweaty men. Just typical. Jim simply makes his way to the front and sits down on one of the stools, spinning around to gesture Leonard over. Leonard sighs through his nostrils before coming beside the blond, climbing up onto one of the stools as well.

"You're buying." Kirk informs him with a shit-eating grin, "Like hell I am. I just saved your ass; you can buy your own drink." Leonard replies sharply, causing the immature blond to frown, "You're no fun."

Leonard shakes his head disapprovingly, "You call getting choked back there fun?" Kirk takes a moment to respond, it isn't a long moment but long enough to allow Leonard to realize there's something off with the kid. "No, that wasn't fun." Kirk tells him, but there's a twitch of a smile in his lips that alarms Leonard.

The bartender comes over, "What can I get you guys?"

"Two beers." Kirk says greedily, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, the bartender just nods and leaves to get their drinks.

"Why were you fighting in the first place?" Leonard asks and the blond stiffens slightly, "Uhh, I went out and bought a cheeseburger. And this guy, Finnegan, wanted a bite when I came back. I said no." Kirk explains with a laugh.

"Is Finnegan your roommate?" He wonders, but Kirk shakes his head, "No, no. My roommate is Francis Donovan. He's a bitch." Leonard nods and once more Kirk stares deeply into him with those penetrating blue eyes, "Who's your roommate?" The blond questions as the bartender delivers their drinks. Leonard says a quick thanks before responding, "I don't have one. Guess he chickened out last second."

Kirk hums and slides Leonard's drink over to him. Leonard nods and takes a sip of the beer. The amber liquid swirls down his throat, warming his insides oddly as it settles within him. When he looks back over at Kirk, the blond is gazing off distantly.

"Taking any sweet classes?" Leonard says, trying to start a conversation, "Uhh, none worth mentioning." Kirk mutters, switching his eyes from his glass to a girl across the bar, "You a doctor or something?" The blond's guess startles Leonard, "Yeah, how'd you know?"

The blond hums gently, "Had a feeling."

"Alright it's my turn. Let me guess, you're a rich cocky bastard whose daddy kicked you out, but you still think you're better than everyone else. Am I close?" Kirk chuckles, "Nailed it." But the blond's weak smile that barely manages to climb onto his lips says otherwise.

"Hey Bones, hold my drink will ya? There's a girl, about a seven across the bar. Problem is once you get close, seven's can actually turn into sixes, so I gotta go see if she's a true seven or not." The blond explains, rising from his seat and giving the bewildered brunette a wink.

"Who you looking at Jim? And it's Leonard." He asks, catching Kirk by the shoulder before he can escape arm's reach, "The green Orion over there." The blond alleges and Leonard follows his gaze, finding the thick but slender green woman across the bar, with rich curly auburn hair that surely sets ablaze in the glowing sunlight.

"Jim, she's not seven, definitely a nine." Leonard corrects him, but Kirk gives him a snarky huff, "I've seen better Bones." The blond is then off and away, sliding past several people to get to his one destination.

Leonard just watches with a sigh, wondering why he's even here in the first place. Unmistakably this Kirk person isn't someone he should be hanging around, but something about the kid is off, there's more to him then whatever this shit he's getting. The kid's hiding something, and he wants to know what.

He takes sip from his drink, glancing back over at Kirk, who's chatting away with the pretty woman, but out of the corner of his eye, he catches two men brushing through, eyes locked on Kirk. Shit, this might turn ugly.

The Orion is now trying to shoo Kirk away, but the blond is truly a blond and doesn't get the hint until one of the men place a large hand on shoulder. The dread that washes over the blond's face is only brief until a grin replaces it as he turns to face the men. Leonard can just feel a rock drop into his stomach, here it comes.

Groaning to himself, Leonard heaves himself off of the stool and begins to make his way over to Kirk, before the blond gets the snot beaten out of him. But he is truly too late. By the time he gets over, Kirk has already put one guy into a table and is getting punched repeatedly into the gut as the second man pins him against the wall.

"Jim!" He shouts as he pulls the second guy off of the blond.

But the aggressor grabs him by his shirt and hoists him off of the ground, "You know that bitch?" the man growls, glaring into Leonard's eyes.

Leonard looks over at Kirk within a moment; the blond has slumped over, eyes blinking through the thick sticky blood now running down his face, "Yeah, that's my bitch. So hands off of him."

Despite the blond's blurred vision, he's able to get up and take the guy out before he lands a blow at Leonard's face. Leonard stumbles back, shocked as the blond hurtles himself at the man, managing to break a beer bottle over his head before the man lands to many blows to his once pretty blond face. But by now the man that had gotten thrown into the table is recovering and reaching out to grab Kirk by his hair. Kirk doesn't notice him until he's yanked harshly down to the ground by his golden hair.

The blond yelps and kicks the man into the gut before he has a chance to harm him further. Leonard shakes himself from his daze and lands the finishing blow with a chair to the man's back.

"Get out!" The bartender's voice is now made known once the noise has settled.

"C'mon Jim." Leonard commands, picking him up off the floor and dragging him out of the bar, "We got em Bones." Kirk laughs, patting him on the back, "Shit kid. What's wrong with you?" He wonders aloud, going through the now gathered crowd of people, one of those being the pretty Orion girl who just stares after them thoughtfully.

Leonard brings him outside and over to the curb. "I'm fine Bones, really." Kirk waves him off, but he nonetheless forces the kid to sit down, "Hold still moron." Leonard growls, snatching Kirk by his chin and tilting it around to get a better angle on his quickly swelling face, "You said I was your bitch." Kirk says, but he's not laughing, his face has hardened into something of seriousness.

"I was caught in the heat of the moment." Leonard explains apologetically, using his own sleeve to help get the blood off of Kirk's face, "No-no its fine. I thought it was funny actually."

He smiles and shakes his head, "C'mon, let me take you to a hospital." Leonard tells him, aiding him to his feet, "No it's fine. Just help me get back to the Roddenberry dorms. That's where my room's at."

"My dorms are closer; let me take you there first. You can't go walking around looking like this, you'd get in trouble." He informs the blond, beginning the long walk back to the campus with him supporting at least a third of Kirk's weight. "Okay," Kirk agrees, not finding the strength within himself to argue any further, as long as he's not going to medical he's fine with it.

"Let's get a drink tomorrow." Kirk decides and Leonard looks at him incredulously, "Not after today's show. They'd never let us back in."

"Hmm, yes I know, but there are other bars." Kirk replies hopefully, but he just shakes his head, "This was a onetime deal kid. Classes start tomorrow and I don't have time to be farting around with the likes of you."

Kirk almost looks hurt, mentally speaking that is, "Trust me Bones, you'll have fun."

"I have a feeling that what you call fun and I call fun, aren't the same thing." Leonard says, grunting when Kirk nearly topples over with a groan, "Shit kid, how's your ribs?" He gasps as Kirk becomes slightly heavier than before, "Doing fine. And don't change the subject. We're going out for a drink tomorrow."

"It's not happening kid. I have classes to pass."

Kirk sighs and they continue the rest of their journey in silence, until they reach Leonard's dorms, "You're a freshman, how come you're not staying in the Roddenberry dorms?" Kirk asks, leaning against the wall as Leonard gets the door open, "I took medical classes at the University of Mississippi, already got my PhD kid, so they gave me a fancy room in the Barrett dorms."

"PhD, wow." Kirk grumbles and lets Leonard guide him inside, his ribs still sending jolts of pain through his system, "I'm a fast learner." Leonard mumbles, "Must be smart than." Kirk compliments with a grin.

Leonard just nods and brings Kirk into elevator beside him, selecting the third floor and watching as the doors slide shut and they begin to go up. Kirk looks a bit tipsy beside him, perhaps a concussion? Though he hasn't displayed many signs of having one.

The elevator dings when it reaches the appropriate floor, and the metallic doors slide open, "C'mon kid." Leonard mutters, snatching Kirk with an arm around his back while his other hand searches for his ID card.

"Room 389e huh?" Kirk huffs, "Uh-huh." Leonard hums as he opens the door, hauling Kirk inside before shutting it with swish of his hand over the sensor.

"Nice place, it's cozy." The blond comments, allowing Leonard to sit him down at the couch before scurry away to the kitchen, "Cozy it may be, but you're getting blood on my carpet." Leonard points out, coming back into sight with a bag of ice and a wet rag.

"Alright, off with the shirt, lemme take a look before I send you on your way." Leonard informs him and waits patiently as Kirk hesitantly peels off his red jacket and proceeds to grab the hems of his shirt, but the blond pauses, looking conflicted. "C'mon, I don't have all night, somebody like their sleep." He prompts and Kirk nods slowly before pulling off his shirt, to reveal a rippling body.

Leonard swallows from the mixed emotions he receives while examining Kirk's body. And damn, does the boy have a pair of abs, but of course, that doesn't stop Leonard for noticing the light pink scars littering his body amongst the purplish-blue bruises along his ribs. Kirk only offers him a pained expression, one of which Leonard assumes wasn't supposed to be there, he supposes the blond was going to smile at him but couldn't manage it through the anguish.

So instead, Leonard gives him a reassuring smirk; of course he wasn't going to ask, for it's none of his business. Kirk catches the look and becomes noticeably at ease when Leonard begins to poke and prod at him, but there's still a hint of alertness, the stiffness whenever Leonard's hand grazes over a scar or comes close to his neck.

"Here, lay down for me, it'll be easier that way." Leonard tells him and Kirk simply nods and complies, lying rather still as he places a pillow beneath his head.

Using the rag, Leonard wipes away the blood clearly streaming from his nostrils and the cuts on his head, "Y'know it'd help if you would just let me take you to a hospital." Leonard begins, making Kirk snort, "That's not gonna happen Bones."

"We're in my room, it's Leonard. For god's sake man." Leonard sighs; placing the ice on Kirk's bruised ribs, causing a groan to emit from the blond's throat.

"Lemme grab some water." Leonard then rises from his crouch beside Kirk and heads off into the kitchen, filling a glass full of water before returning to a drowsy blond. "Here, drink this." He orders, watching as Kirk struggles to sit up, "Thanks." The blond barely whispers, taking the cup and slowly swallowing it down.

"Better?" Leonard says, snatching the cup and putting on the side table, Kirk just nods, eyes drooping. "Hungry much?" He asks, heading once more for the kitchen, "Already ate." Kirk replies, his voice edging with exhaustion and Leonard can't blame the kid, he got beat up twice today.

"I'm pretty sure the other guy ate it for you." Leonard recalls, crossing his arms and daring a glance over at Kirk, but the back of the couch obscures his vision of the kid.

Kirk just hums before breathing out a sigh. When Leonard returns minutes later with a bowl of oatmeal, the kid is out like a light, mouth parted as soft snores escape. Leonard smiles and shakes his head, sitting down on the ground beside the man. He turns on the TV and scrolls through the channels, settling on the news section, though he finds himself a bit lost.

Why has he taken in this complete stranger? Yes they've bonded through the fact that he spewed bodily fluids over the man's lap, but why Jim Kirk? The devilish blond attracts any sort of trouble possible and most obviously has a death sentence waiting in his future, so why is Leonard helping him? That's a question Leonard cannot answer, simply because he's not willing to take into account of his own past decisions and experiences.

So instead of delving into the answer, Leonard shifts his focus to the TV, allowing the news report to suck him away from reality. Well, until his spoon makes a clank sound alerting him of the fact that he's managed to zone out for the entirety of him eating his oatmeal.

He groans, slightly frustrated at himself for wasting time, when he could've been getting ready for his classes tomorrow. This then brings him to his sudden realization that Kirk is still sleeping on his couch half naked. What is he getting himself into?

Leonard glances at the blond, seeing his contorted face as he begins to moan in his sleep. He sighs to himself and gathers to his feet, dumping his dishes into the kitchen sink. Worn, Leonard sits himself at the table, where he'd left his discarded PADD this morning after his meeting with his counselor. Entering in his password, Leonard pulls up his classes, scanning over them briefly. He has Starfleet Medicine at 7 am, and Organic Chemistry at 2 after lunch. Hopefully those classes won't be too hard, though since he's already attended Mississippi University that should make things easier on him.

Exhaling heavily, Leonard lets his head slump into the palm of his hand, with his elbow propped up against the surface of the table. He continues swiping through, accessing the location of his classes so he doesn't get lost tomorrow.

As he starts to let his eyes fall, there's a sudden cry of pain, followed by one name which he's learning to respond to, "…Bones?"

 **Author's Note: Just a heads up, once school starts up again I probably won't be updating this quickly, unfortunately. But I'd like to send a thank you to all of you who have followed this story, and for our one reviewer and the one favoriter, thank you for your time. So, what'd you think? Any good? I hope so, stay tuned for chapter 3! Live Long and Prosper.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 3**

Jim wakes with jolt, finding that his world is about to spin off of its hinges. Slightly panicked, the blond gets to his feet, but he utterly convulses in pain, sending him to his hands and knees, and he lets a cry of agony part from his lips before calling for the first name that comes to mind, "…Bones?" He's barely able to let the name fall from his mouth due to his abnormally swollen throat.

"Shit, Jim you okay?" McCoy's already rounding the corner to come by his side, guiding him into a sitting position and quickly glancing him over, brain assessing the damage.

Jim nods, "Sorry about scaring you. I just didn't expect it to hurt that much."

McCoy shakes his head at him disapprovingly, "You shouldn't be up on your feet, you need to be in a hospital."

"No-no, its fine. I just need a minute and I'll be on my way. I gotta get back to my dorm." Jim tells the southerner, yanking his discarded shirt over his head and reaching for his jacket when McCoy stops him, "Jim you gotta go to medical. You could have a broken rib for god's sake."

"For the last time, I'm not going." Jim nearly growls, shoving McCoy's outstretched hand away and proceeds to slip his red jacket on.

McCoy steps away, clearly angered by his stubbornness, but nonetheless doesn't stop him when he stands to his feet, "Fine, but I suggest no physical activity tomorrow. If your ribs aren't broken, they sure as hell are fractured."

The blond nods slowly, "Don't worry Bones, I'll be fine." He replies, patting the man on the shoulder with cunning grin, "Alright, but at least let me walk you over to your dorms." McCoy advises him, arms crossed from where he stands silently judging the man before him, "You're such a gentleman Bones." Jim chuckles and heads for the door, but before he opens it, he beckons the southerner over, of course he wants McCoy to walk him back, he's not sure if he'd make it if he doesn't.

"Thought so kid." McCoy grumbles, opening the door for him and watching as the blond hobbles out, one hand clutching at his bruised ribs while the other grazes along the interior walls.

"You're one stubborn bastard." McCoy tells him, once they've both made it inside the elevator, "I try." He grunts, pushing the button for the bottom floor leaving the man beside him to shake his head.

Once the elevator dings, McCoy hooks his arm around Jim and guides him out. Much to Jim's annoyance, to actually walk, he has to grip onto the man for dear life, finding the pain to surge through his body, making him shaky at the knees, "This was a terrible idea." The southerner complains, helping Jim walk down the pavement path. "Name one good idea I've had so far." Jim points out with a wince, feeling his insides begin to burn with the constant movement.

They then walk off the main path, heading down a steep hill, but all it takes is one misstep to send both Jim and McCoy to the ground, "Goddamn it kid." McCoy mutters, brushing the dirt off of himself as he stands. "Hey! Are you guys okay?" A voice suddenly rings out from behind them. "Who the hell is that?" Jim groans, sitting upright with a cough, "I have no idea but if it's security we're screwed."

"Need some help?" The voice continues and they finally make the outline of the figure through the darkness, and luckily he as well is a wearing a red uniform.

McCoy lets out a relieved sigh, "Yes, some help would be much obliged."

"Well, I'm Hikaru Sulu, and you might be?" The thin Asian man holds out a hand to shake, "Leonard McCoy." The southerner greets back, meeting the hand solidly, "His name's Bones." Jim corrects, causing Sulu to be confused and McCoy to grouse, "And that there is Jim."

"So, what shall I be helping you with exactly?" Sulu inquires, glancing around expecting to find it obvious, "This here moron decided to get into two fights today, and I need to get him back to his dorm." McCoy explains, all the while Jim sits pouting as he waits.

Sulu nods, "Why not take him to Medbay? They have one on campus y'know."

"Good luck getting him inside of one. He's too damn stubborn." McCoy replies, scooping Jim from the grass and stabling him back on his feet, with Sulu going to the opposite side to aid him in walking, "So what dorms are we going to exactly?"

"Roddenberry." Jim informs him, though his voice has grown gruff and scratchy.

Sulu nods excitedly, "Hey that's my dorms. You guys freshmen too?"

"Yeah." McCoy responds as they haul Jim down the hill and onto the cement path back to the dorms, "You guys roommates?"

Jim chuckles, "No, I'm rooming with Francis Donovan while he gets a fancy room in the Barrett dorms all by himself."

Sulu hums in thought, "That's nice. I have some fourteen year old kid in my room."

"Fourteen?" McCoy bursts, not able to hold back a few laughs, "You're kidding me right?"

"I'm being serious; he's some type of child prodigy. The instructors play a bit of favoritism getting him in here." Sulu explains with a sigh, "What's his name?" Jim implores.

"Pavel Chekov. He's a skinny redheaded Russian kid, can't miss him." Sulu laughs and Jim nods, "I'll look for him tomorrow."

McCoy leads the group up the final steps to the dorms, pausing right outside the door, "Alright, Mister Sulu, you think you can take Jim to his room, I can't stay out too late, we do have a curfew y'know."

"Oh yeah, sure thing, Leonard. I can handle it from here." Sulu says and McCoy can just see how genuinely nice and helpful he is just by the way he offers a cordial smile, "Thanks, and Jim, don't do anything stupid." McCoy calls out as he strolls away into the night air.

"I'll try not to Bones!" Jim shouts after him as Sulu guides him inside, "So what floor are we going to?" The dark headed Asian inquires, squeezing into the elevator, with Jim leaning heavily upon him, "Floor two."

"Alright. My floor is the third, first door to your right." The man tells him, Jim just nods, "I'll make sure I swing by sometime then."

The elevator than makes the familiar ding and the doors slide away, "I think I can handle it from here, thanks, Sulu right?"

Sulu nods, "Yeah, its Sulu, and I'll see ya later Jim!"

Jim smiles graciously and gives a little wave to Sulu as the doors slide shut, before he promptly turns to find his door, 227a. He goes to pull out an ID card, but then remembers, he doesn't have it on him. Groaning, Jim knocks on the door, until Francis opens it for him.

"Thanks." Jim grunts, stepping inside and Francis just nods before scurrying away into his own room.

The blond heaves a sigh and limps into his room after closing the door and making sure it's locked. Once in the safety of his own quarters, he kicks off his boots and strips down to his boxers and sets an alarm for four-twenty am, since he has hand to hand combat training at five am. Though he supposes there won't be very many people, not many Academy students are willing to take the earliest classes, but Jim accepts it. He considers himself a morning person, sometimes that is.

Making his way over leisurely, he crumples into the bed, despite the firm mattress and rough blankets the bed itself is soothing to his throbbing body. Not bothering with a shower, which he's long overdue for, Jim falls into a light slumber.

When the alarm goes off at its designated time, four-twenty am, Jim wants to kill himself and it's only August 20th, the first day of school. All night Jim slept curled up in a tight ball, arms wrapped protectively around his injured ribs, but now, as he surges to the waking world, he regrets his decision to sleep like that. Aching and stiff, Jim unravels himself and turns the alarm off with a rather limp arm.

He forces a breath into his body and within that instant his ribs flare in white hot pain that momentarily blinds him. Jim's breathing stutters, but through gripping onto his mattress for dear life, he's able to compose himself.

Swallowing the built up saliva, Jim turns his body around and plants his feet sturdily onto the ground, feeling a shudder run up him. He then proceeds to feel uncharacteristically cold and decides on a nice warm shower to loosen his muscles. Agreeing with himself, Jim gets up and stumbles his way over, gathering his clothes as he makes for the bathroom outside of his room.

It takes several minutes of pained walking, and he's sure that his grunts and groans broke the tranquility of the room, to reach the bathroom. He turns on the light, which he immediately regrets as the brightness causes him to squint and catch the reflection of his horrid face in the mirror. The sight of his own face causes him to pause and lean over the counter to get a better look.

He's awfully ragged and pale; his nose is swollen into a purple mess. His lower lip is busted and looking quite fat. Jim switches his gaze up, meeting his own gleaming sapphire eyes, despite the sunken appearance they hold, the same fiery determination glows within them. Satisfied, Jim strips himself of his boxers and runs the shower, keeping one hand across his abdomen. He doesn't even want to look there.

Once at the proper, blazing hot, temperature Jim steps within the waters warm embrace, letting the liquid run down and sear into his bare skin. He takes a calming breath, feeling the dirt and grime wash away from the intensity of the heat. Sighing, Jim scrubs his hair underneath the showerhead's spray, he would've used some shampoo, but since he doesn't have any of his own and he's too afraid to use Francis', he doesn't.

When he's as clean as he's going to get, the blond shuts the water off and grabs the first towel he sees, though he supposes they're provided with towels, but he could be wrong. Francis Donovan may be one pissed man when he comes back. Completely dry, Jim pulls on his trousers and slips on the red uniform, making a mental note to get more clothes. Surely the Starfleet Academy provides them with more?

Jim groans as he yanks on his jacket, finding that his ribs protest the movement fiercely. He rolls his eyes, not quite sure if he's disgusted at the pain he's in or the fact he got beat up twice yesterday.

The blond makes his way out of the bathroom, quickly snatching his ID card, wallet, and PADD from his dorm room before leaving. He doesn't need to get locked out of his room again. Jim leaves the room with a grin, the shower was actually refreshing and he supposes that's just the thing he needed to start his day.

Taking the elevator, it's a lonesome ride down and as he steps out into the early morning air, he realizes just how dormant the campus is, and he thought the campus looked deserted yesterday, now it definitely does. Plastering on that Jim Kirk smile, he makes his way over to the main building, though when he pulls up his PADD, he realizes that the hand to hand class is held in the gym, which isn't part of the main facility, but is rather close to the Barrett dorms, which is also close to the campus Medbay. But he figures the coincidence of the hospital and the gym being close together isn't an accident.

Jim groans when he picks up the pace, climbing up the hill he'd tripped on last night, and back onto the familiar path towards McCoy's dorms. More than likely the southern man is still snoring away, lucky. The blond reaches the gym building in a timely fashion, actually he's five minutes early. He steps inside and glances around, finding several other students bustling outside the gym doors, obviously awaiting the arrival of their absent professor.

He scoots himself into the crowd, quickly glancing over their faces to see if he recognizes any of them, and unfortunately he does. Jake Finnegan is amongst the crowd, chatting away with some fellow students. Jim tenses, feeling his hands curl into fists. Maybe the two of them should spar, he'd love a rematch.

"Move back, move back. I have to unlock the doors." A voice rings out, and the cadets quiet down and everybody finds their attention drawn to the source.

The source is a stocky man, holding the height about just under an inch of six feet, though despite his lack of height, the man has arms that look like they could rip one's head off with a single yank. His face is clean shaven, with gray hair that has been buzz cut.

Their professor strolls to the door with much confidence, and with the wave of his hand over the sensor the doors open, allowing his students to enter before him. Jim gives his instructor a courteous nod while passing by; hoping to be on good terms with the man, for this will more than likely be one of his favorite classes.

"Alright, hello everybody, my name is Professor Nimoy. I will be your instructor for the course of this year. For today, you will be taught the procedures, ins and outs, and safety protocols of using any equipment or performing any activity. If you can sit still through this, than I reassure you, you can sit through anything." Professor Nimoy introduces himself, closing the doors and guiding the students to the main arena, with padded floors and benches to the sides.

"This here is the main gym. It's where we'll be doing most of your training. Over there to the left, is the men's locker room, and to the right is the women's. Oh, and don't let me forget-every single of you is provided with the appropriate gym clothes and bag, which when I see you next class, you should be wearing." Nimoy continues, pulling out a hover crate with all their bags, "Okay, I promise I'm not trying to butcher your name, I just can't pronounce anything, if I did; I'd be teaching an English class."

There are a few chuckles and smiles amongst the crowd, but mostly it's quiet, though Jim can't blame them, it's five in the morning for crying out loud.

"Alright, let's see what we got here…Vanessa Rexroat? Did I say that right?" Nimoy calls out and a slender woman steps from the group, long wavy brunette hair, with brown eyes richer than the earth's soil, "Yes sir." Rexroat replies, taking the gym bag from his grasp before vanishing back within the flock of students.

Nimoy nods and grabs the next bag, "Uhh, Jake Finnegan?"

Finnegan slithers through the people and grabs his bag, giving a nod to the professor before stepping away, "Okay, I'm going to mess this one up, Peter M-Med-ved?"

A tall man with square shoulders appears, "Its Medved sir."

"Medved, I'll try to remember that." Nimoy says, handing the man his bag before snatching the next one.

The routine of calling names continues and it's not until every student, around twenty or so, have their bags before Jim's name is called, him being the last one.

"James Kirk?" Nimoy announces and whispers begin to break out.

Could it possibly be James Kirk, like George Kirk's son?

Of course Jim knew the answer, but he was never one to brag about his father, actually the indignation he holds for the man is remarkably high, despite the fact that it's not even his fault he was absent.

Nervously swallowing, Jim brushes through the throng of people and to the front, feeling everyone's eyes trace out every movement he makes, following with keen gazes, as if he slips up now they can disgrace his name. When he gets to the front, Nimoy has a smirk on his face, "Your George's kid huh?" The instructor prompts and Jim can feel the pressure building up on his shoulders, and in the crowd, he can see Finnegan shooting daggers at him.

Jim nods slowly, "Yeah, that's me." He confirms rather slowly and Nimoy smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Your father was good man, I'm sure he'd be proud of you."

He nods again, it's all he can manage as he snatches the back and snakes back into the crowd, but he finds that once before he could disappear within the mass, now he can't. There's always someone looking at him with steely eyes.

Through the rest of Professor's Nimoy's speech, Jim's head hangs rather low, gaze not really leaving the floor unless whenever Nimoy is demonstrating any type of safety procedure or protocol. But as much as Jim likes the man, the professor's ignorant words echo through his mind. How could he possibly know that his father would be proud of him? Professor Nimoy doesn't know him; he doesn't know the demons that he has shut away. He can't possibly know of the pain and suffering he has caused to other people and himself. There's no way. So how the hell does Nimoy have the audacity to say that?

Jim finds himself so distraught over the words, that time slips through his fingers and soon enough, Professor Nimoy is dismissing the class.

Sighing, Jim trails along, gripping his bag tightly and walking out into the morning air. But the moment he lets himself enjoy the early sky, with the singing birds and gleaming sun, a hand grabs his shirt and he's thrust around to the back side of the building. Stumbling forward from the push, Jim drops his bag and PADD and turns to face the intruder, only to met by Finnegan and a scrawny man by the name of Tafari Arendse, a black African with a height around six foot three.

"Hey Jimmy, nice show you put on today." Finnegan sneer, coming closer, "Ya'know I didn't mean to, what can I say, people love me." Jim replies joyously, giving Finnegan his trademark grin to infuriate him more.

Finnegan goes for the bait and lands a fist into Jim's stomach, which the blond immediately crumbles to the ground, gasping for breath.

"Sore much Jimmy?"

"Jake, we should go, somebody might see us, its light outside." Arendse points out, grabbing Finnegan by the shoulder to pull him away. Finnegan growls, brushing his friend's hand off, "Alright, you win Taf, but tonight we come back to finish the little punk off."

Jake Finnegan then continues to storm off, head held high, though Arendse lingers, "You alright little man?"

Jim looks up, meeting those dark brown eyes of Arendse, "I'm fine." He manages with a groan as he stands up, "Okay, but I suggest you hide tonight. You do not want to fight Finnegan." Arendse explains hurriedly as he backs away, "Trust me, I know." Jim snaps and watches as the lanky African skips away to his next destination.

The blond gives a huff as he stoops over, grabbing his bag and PADD before continuing through the campus. It's currently seven fifteen, which means he has forty-five minutes before his next class begins, which is Astrophysics. Should be interesting enough.

He's making his slow journey back to his dorms when a loud yelp catches his attention. Perking up Jim finds the source of the noise and instantly recognizes the man, though he's never met him before. Certainly the skinny Russian teenager, looking utterly lost can't be anybody but Sulu's roommate, Pavel Chekov. As Jim comes closer, the cause of the boy's yelp is unknown, until he sees the broken PADD scattered in shards across the pavement floor.

"Oh, ouch there buddy. What happened?" Jim makes his presence known as he stands beside the redheaded boy, "I got up late this morning, so I was in a rush when I tripped and broke it." The Russian boy explains rather sadly.

With shining eyes, Chekov's face twists into further confusion as he realizes he's talking to a stranger, "Do I know you?" He squeaks and Jim can't help the smile the spreads on his lips, "I'm Jim, I met your roommate, Sulu last night." He holds out a hand and the Russian kid meets it firmly, "Oh! I'm Pavel Chekov, and I kinda broke my PADD."

"That appears to be so, what class are you heading to, maybe I can help you out." Jim suggests, offering a friendly smile, which Chekov gives back, "Oh yes that would be most helpful."

"Alright, what class?" Jim inquires, unlocking his PADD and pulling up a search bar, "Its Transporter Theory." Chekov informs him and Jim glances over at him, eyebrow raised, "I heard you're fourteen, is that true?"

Chekov nods, looking shy, "Its true sir."

"Oh please, it's just Jim. And damn kid, that's impressive; remind me to take you out for a drink sometime." Jim chuckles, grinning as he begins to steer Chekov away to his next class, but the Russian looks at him incredulously, "I am under the drinking age, I'd get into trouble."

Jim pauses, looking over at him, "You make me feel old."

"That's what Hikaru said." Chekov laughs, white teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

"Alright, let's get you to that class." Jim declares and they head off with Chekov holding onto his shattered PADD.

Chekov continues the incessant chatter, the kid moves at a rate of a hundred and ten miles per hour as he speaks; Jim can barely keep up with him between his burning ribs and glancing down at his PADD to make sure they're going in the right direction. When Chekov does make it to his class, he's nearly a half hour late, but still grateful.

"Thanks Jim!" Chekov whispers before heading inside the room, leaving the blond to shake his head and make a slow return to his dorms.

Once inside his room, he dumps his new bag in his room, finding Francis to be still sleeping. He sighs, snatching his PADD and glancing through to find his next class, Astrophysics. Before he leaves he double checks his pocket, making sure he has his ID card.

Jim leaves the room and goes for the elevator; he pushes the button and seconds later its sliding open, revealing Hikaru Sulu standing inside, "Hey Sulu." He greets, stepping into the elevator to ride to the bottom floor with the man.

"Morning Jim, what class you heading to?" Sulu inquires, stretching a yawn which he can't quite hide, "Uhh, Astrophysics." Jim hums, rubbing his ribs unconsciously.

"Really? That's the class I'm going to now." Sulu replies excitedly and Jim meets his grin, "I saw your boy Chekov not too long ago."

"Told you he's easy to spot." Sulu says, getting off the elevator with the blond once they reach the bottom floor, "Yeah, the poor boy broke his PADD on the concrete. I had to take him over to his class but he'd already missed a portion of it." Jim explains and Sulu cringes in sympathy, "That's not a great way to start off your first day."

Jim just nods knowingly, he'd already received his gift, it's still hurting.

The two make it to their class on time, without a second to spare. They're greeted by around thirty other students, all eager and young just like they are. Jim and Sulu sit side by side, both finding comfort in the familiarity of each other's presence, despite the fact they've only known each for less than a day.

It's only a moment longer until their professor appears before them, elegant in her stance with white hair, she holds herself up proudly with a long gown about her figure. Clearing her throat, she takes her position at the podium, giving the microphone a quick tap before speaking.

"Hello students, I am Professor Rand and no you may not call me Rand or Randy. It shall be either Professor or Misses Rand; I will not accept any other title. This class is Astrophysics, so if you're not taking this class, perhaps you got Astrosciences, which is right down the hall, and Astrophysics mixed up. If you aren't in either or you're outright scared of taking this class, go ahead and leave, they offer a creative writing class downstairs." Misses Rand gives her introduction, and several students leave for purposes unknown to the class, but she also causes several laughs to rise from the bustle of students.

"Now I'm not going to sugar coat it, this class won't be easy. It'll be challenging, it'll be time consuming, but if you put the time and effort into your work, you'll pass. But for those of you who think you're all that, you hotshots, you know who you are, trust me you'll fail this class if you don't study and put in the time. I can guarantee you that." Professor Rand establishes bluntly, making Jim smirk.

He has a feeling Professor Rand isn't going to like him very much, as for Sulu, the Asian man can't be more energized for the class. The poor kid is bouncing in his seat from anticipation, which brings Jim to the fact that he's older than most of the students here. The majority of them just got out of high school. Man that makes him feel old.

Exhaling rather loudly, Jim slouches in his chair, crosses his arms and mentally prepares himself for the next two hours of his life.

And boy does time pass slowly when one is bored. Jim probably spends more time staring at the clock above the Professor's head than actually looking at her. That woman and her beady eyes frightens him, though he doesn't know why, something about her is strange, like she's holding onto something beyond her. A hatred that she's carried within herself. A burden perhaps?

Though, Jim finds out exactly what when the bells rings and Professor Rand dismisses them. Relieved, Jim scrambles to his feet, clutching his new Astrophysics book close to his side along with his PADD.

Sulu's about to start talking when Jim's name is called out from across the room, causing the blond to raise an eyebrow and shrug, "I'll catch up with you later for lunch or something." Jim tells him and the man nods, "Alright, I'll see if I can get Pavel to come too."

Jim smiles as he watches Sulu leave and then turns around to figure out just exactly why his name was shouted from across the room. But much to his disappointment it's just Professor Rand, hands on hips as she waits for him to walk over.

"Yes ma'am?" Jim alleges, purposefully not using either title Professor Rand had addressed herself with.

The petite woman forces a smile onto her face, obviously strained, "Your James Kirk?"

"Yes ma'am." He repeats, dipping his head, not out of respect, but slight mockery, though he supposes it's quite redundant since she doesn't even notice.

Eyes narrowing she glares at him, "Look, you may be a Kirk, but don't expect special treatment from me, I treat everyone fairly in this class."

"I don't expect anything less ma'am." Jim tells her and notices her cringe as he uses the word 'ma'am'.

"Good, look I know your father was a hero and all, but in my class, just because a student's daddy is a big deal, doesn't mean they get to walk through my class with an easy A." She continues sharply and Jim keeps nodding, "Of course ma'am, makes sense."

"Please stop with the 'ma'am', it's Professor or Misses Rand, weren't you paying attention in class?" She implores and Jim smiles slyly, "Of course I was. Now if there's not anything else, I'd like to go now."

"Go ahead, but make sure you're ready for next class James." Professor Rand waves him off and he nods, "Of course, chapter one, section one correct?" He prompts, barely glancing over his shoulder to catch her response, "Yes, see you next week."

Jim sighs once he makes it out of her class, despite it being only a little past ten in the morning, the blond finds himself drained of energy and utterly exhausted. With the motivation he has left, he exits the building, welcoming the summer heat against his back as he finds his way back to the Roddenberry dorms.

Though, with a day such as this, why did he ever think he'd make it back without getting into more trouble? Because wherever James T. Kirk is, tribulation is bound to follow.

He's halfway to his dorms when he feels it. The sudden shift of bones within him, for a split second his vision goes black and a ringing bursts in his eardrums, though it all clears giving away to the pain in his ribs. Jim gasps, clutching his ribs, feeling all to sick. Then it only takes a second longer for Jim to throw up, in public for all to see, the crimson blood dripping from his lips.

 **Author's Note: I'm excited by all the feedback I'm getting its amazing, you guys are truly awesome. I hope this chapter was just as good as the last and it keeps you reading, and don't worry, Jim will get fixed up soon, he's just too stubborn to do anything until it gets serious. I hope I got Sulu and Chekov down, I've never really included them much so this is my first time actually using them. So until next time, Live Long and Prosper.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 4**

Drained and all around grumpy, Leonard finds himself leaving his seven am class. It was brilliant. Sarcastically speaking that is. Having the benefit of already taking medical classes really does dull things up. The Professor, a name of which he can't recall, went on and on about the past studies and future studies being made on medicine. Though he's sure once the medicine class kicks off, he'll start to enjoy things more.

It's ten after nine, Leonard's next class, Organic Chemistry, isn't until two, which he's certain he'll have some lunch by then, which then leaves room for a quick nap. Content, Leonard double checks to make sure he has his PADD, ID card, and his new Studies of Medicine textbook before heading to the Barrett dorms. His trip is a peaceful one and thank goodness he doesn't run into anybody, nothing can get between Leonard McCoy and a good powernap, because my god they don't have coffee machines around here and no replicated shit is going to be able to replace the old fashioned way. But if time goes on and he still has no coffee, he'll have to start making the replicated version.

Internally groaning, Leonard makes it to his room, 389e and welcomes the stillness of his quarters with great appreciation. He's glad he doesn't have a roommate; it makes things so much easier on him. Leonard's not much of a social person, so having a room to himself is heaven. Especially when he gets one of the fancy ones all to himself, leaves more space for Leonard to be Leonard, without having to go through the awkward stages of getting to know someone.

The southerner promptly discards his belongings in his closed off room, a table by the bed. Luckily for him his room is connected to the outer walls, so he has windows letting in the summer sunlight.

He kicks off his boots and drapes his jacket on his study desk, hoping for a long relaxing nap. Leonard climbs into bed, finding the pillows and mattress enticing and irresistible for his exhausted body. Shutting his eyes, darkness finds him easily, but his nap is short lived when his PADD goes off.

The blaring noise is relentless and harmful to his ears.

"Goddamn." He growls, pulling himself into a sitting position before trying to turn off his alarm, only to realize he didn't set any alarms.

Snatching it from the table, he closes out the emergency alarm and reads the message. His heart beginning to clench in sudden fear as the information sinks in, "Holy shit. Damn it." Leonard whispers, switching the PADD off and quickly scrambling to pull on his boots and jacket before grabbing his ID card and running out the door to medical.

Despite the fact that he's only known him for two days now, he can't help but feel responsible for the kid. Damn it, he should have dragged the blond's sorry ass to the Medbay before it got serious.

When he reaches the Academy's hospital he's out of breath and his face has flushed a shade of red. Trying to act calm, he strolls up to the counter in the waiting room, "I'm here to see James Kirk?" He barely gets the name off his tongue, visibly cringing.

"Are you Leonard McCoy? I need to see an ID." The woman replies sternly and watches as McCoy pulls out his proof. She then nods, "Alright, go ahead and have a seat, Doctor M'Benga will be out shortly."

Leonard nods and takes a seat. Shutting his eyes, he cradles his face in his hands, fingers tearing at the ragged brown tufts of hair. What happened? What did Kirk do? Didn't he tell the idiot to stay out trouble? But why does he even care so much? All Leonard knows about him is that his name is James Kirk and he's on a train heading for suicide, and at this rate, Leonard might be on the same one.

Maybe it's not so much Kirk's doing but rather his own. Leonard McCoy had a life before Starfleet, one he cherishes and holds dear to his heart, and that's his five year old little girl, Joanna McCoy. The luminous brown eyes and thick brown hair made him laugh, smile, and cry. His little girl is turning six this year, yet he won't be there to see it, for the first time in his little girl's life her father won't be present for her birthday. All because Jocelyn Darnell, his ex-wife, gained full custody.

So maybe that's it, maybe Leonard's looking for someone to fill in that place in his heart, someone that he can actually take care of and hold dear. Though surely someone as old as Jim Kirk won't need a father figure in his life? But boy is he wrong.

"Mister McCoy?" A man of black ethnicity calls out, stepping through the double doors, "That's me." Leonard replies, rising from his seat and heading over, "Hello, I'm Doctor M'Benga." The doctor greets and Leonard shakes his hand firmly.

"So this is about Jim?" He inquires, somewhere deep down he wishes this is a mistake, but M'Benga confirms it with a nod of his head, "Yes, he came in at ten twenty-three with two fractured ribs and one broken. He's been prepped for the bone knitter but there's a complication." Doctor M'Benga continues, leading Leonard through the halls and to the appropriate room, housing an unconscious Jim Kirk.

"What type of complication?" Leonard asks as they step inside the room and Leonard's left to gaze down at his sleeping friend, "The pain relievers we have he's allergic to. We've requested ones that'll suit his needs but they won't arrive for two days."

"Okay, but I don't see the problem."

Doctor M'Benga takes a couple of steps closer to Kirk, gazing at the vitals displayed above his head, "I don't know if you know, but Mister Kirk has requested for the operation to be done today and that's what I plan on doing."

Leonard splutters, "What? No you can't be serious, did you contact the Academy Board?"

The man nods slowly, "Of course I contacted them, they sent me to Captain Pike and he told me to do whatever Kirk wanted, he said that it's vital that he didn't miss classes."

He moans, rubbing his face with a hand, "Does he know how much this will hurt?"

"I informed him. And that's why you're here. He wants you with him." M'Benga tells him and Leonard has to pinch himself to make sure he's not dreaming, "He wants me with him? Are you sure? Doesn't he have family or something?"

The doctor shakes his head, "No he doesn't have anyone, which after his operation he has to fill out some forms, for medical purposes."

"I'll make sure he does it." Leonard replies.

"I'm sure you will." M'Benga smiles and heads for the door, pausing on the way out, "I'm having the nurses bring the equipment in here, I suppose this room will allow some more room if you're going to stay with him."

The southerner returns the genuine smile, "Thanks Doctor M'Benga."

M'Benga simply nods and disappears, leaving Leonard alone with Kirk, watching the rise and falls of his chest as he fights for oxygen. Why does the blond want him here in the first place? Is Kirk afraid of going through the pain alone or is an alternative motive? Sighing, Leonard pulls a chair up next to the kid's bedside, letting the basic sound of his exhale lull him into a dazed state.

Until the breathing stops.

Leonard pops up, brown eyes wide, but they only meet the brimming ocean. Kirk's eyes have peeled open, bright blue but slightly red at the edges. And damn, the kid smiles the second he realizes its Leonard's worried face stooping over him.

The southerner can barely believe the first words out of his mouth are, "Morning Bones."

"Damn it kid, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Leonard growls, sitting back and crossing his arms angrily at the blond before him, "You actually care." Kirk grins, though his tone is surprised and Leonard finds that it's not any sarcasm but genuine astonishment. Did the kid think he wouldn't show?

Leonard chuckles and opens his mouth to speak, but he thinks better of it.

"You don't have to stay. I just thought…well you are a doctor aren't you?" Kirk prompts, blinking drowsily up at him, eyes gleaming in the beeping room, machines tracking all his vitals.

Leonard nods his head, "Yeah I'm a doctor. PhD remember?"

"Yeah I remember…" Kirk clenches his jaw, unsure of how to re-ask the question, "Of course I'll stay." Leonard announces and the kid's weak smile is enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"Thanks Bones."

The next moment, the bone knitter equipment is being towed in, several nurses bustling within the cramped room, maneuvering the machine over before leaving the room. One nurse in particular stations herself beside the two men, a calming smile on her lips.

"Hello Mister Kirk, Mister McCoy." The kind lady begins, but of course the blond opens his mouth, "Actually it's Doctor McCoy." He corrects with a glamorous wink to Leonard.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir-" She stutters but Leonard puts her at ease, "No, it's alright, he's just being an idiot."

"Bones!" Kirk whines from his bed, but the complaint turns into a moan when he aggravates his abdomen.

"Well, I'm Nurse Chapel and I'll be operating the bone knitter today. If there's any questions on this type of procedure you may ask me at any given point. I have been notified that Mister Kirk is not to use any medication during this time, that is correct?"

Leonard groans, "Yes, he's allergic to the pain meds."

"Alright, please step back sir while I set this up." Chapel instructs and Leonard moves, watching as she handles Kirk with caring hands.

Slowly she inclines the bed and lowers the blanket to his waist, revealing the rainbow colors dancing about the blond's ribs. Leonard can only cringe. Each intake of breath looks painful and the building sweat has become evident on Kirk's skin.

"Now, just hold still while I put this here." The nurse informs him, bringing the high powered laser machine to the bedside and properly anchoring it to the ground. She then straps down his chest and waist and Leonard sees the nervous look Kirk casts at Chapel's hands, as if they've betrayed him.

Nurse Chapel then goes to the side of the machine, entering in the correct commands for the laser to start on the broken rib on Kirk's right.

"Okay, we're going to repair the broken one first, and if you can't cope with it, we can switch to your fractured ribs and wait for the pain meds to arrive before we fix the broken rib." Chapel tells him, finally satisfied with the angle of the laser, "We'll start on a lower setting, and if you think you're up for it, I can turn it up. The lower the setting the longer it'll take but it'll be less painful."

Kirk nods, sweaty hands feebly grasping the edges of the blanket. Leonard has never seen such fear grip the blond and he can't help but feel his heart ache in pain at the sight. This isn't fair for the kid; he shouldn't be doing this to himself. What is he thinking? Having his bones repaired without med pains? Who does that? Surely this blond must be outright mad.

"Are you ready Mister Kirk?" Chapel prompts, taking a glance down at her patient; Kirk offers one of those grins, "I was born ready Nurse Chapel."

Rolling her eyes, Chapel activates the laser and Kirk instantly groans, head falling back into the pillow with eyes screwed shut. But all it takes is for the blond to release a shaky breath to gain his bearings and flash that damn smile.

"It's not that bad." He grits, straightening out his legs and loosening his hands, "Would you like me to raise the setting?" Nurse Chapel asks and Leonard shakes his head, "That's a bad idea, this is already terrible enough, leave it where it's at."

"How long will this take?" Kirk questions, ignoring Leonard and gazing up at the blond nurse, "Roughly, around four to six hours and that's not including breaks between."

Leonard glances at Kirk, seeing the annoyance on the younger man's face, "Let's turn it up."

"Are you sure?" Chapel says, her voice laced with uneasiness, no nurse or doctor for that matter should have to inflict so much pain on their patient, but Kirk's insistent, "Yeah, let's get this over with."

Nurse Chapel nods her head knowingly, "Alright, turning it up now." She announces and both she and Leonard watch as Kirk grinds through the rising pain, beads of sweat trickling down his face.

"How are you feeling?" Chapel inquires, scanning over his vitals, "To be frank, peachy." The blond chirps, exhaling heavily through his nostrils, "Jim, you sure you're okay? Honestly you look like shit." Leonard sighs, leaning forward in his chair, searching into the blond's rapidly blinking eyes, "Yeah, I'm okay." Kirk manages.

"Alright, this should cut the time down by half." Chapel announces, jotting down a few notes on the PADD attached to the bed, "What time is it right now?" Leonard implores.

"Eleven twelve." Chapel replies and Kirk makes a moan of complaint, "What?" He huffs and Kirk looks at him, "I didn't make a wish."

"I'll be back shortly, just press the button if you need anything." Chapel excuses herself and exits through the doorway and into the white halls of the medical wing.

Leonard rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans back in his chair, "Well, at least I'll be able to make it to my second class."

Kirk blinks up at the ceiling, "What class?"

The southerner internally groans, "Organic Chemistry."

"Sounds fun." Kirk smiles weakly, finding the pain draining him physically, "What classes did you have today?" The blond hums as he thinks about it, "I had some hand to hand combat-which we didn't do anything, then I went to my Astrophysics class."

"Oh is that the one with Misses Rand?" Leonard chuckles and Kirk frowns, "Yes. And it's either Professor or Miss Rand." He grumbles, not meeting Leonard's eyes as he pouts, "I heard mean things about her while signing up for classes." Leonard explains and Kirk nods, "Yeah she's a nightmare." The blond then shifts his gaze to him, "Did you have any classes yet?"

"Yeah, I had Starfleet Medicine this morning. Quite a drag that class."

The blond laughs lightly, but ends up moaning in pain, "Try not to laugh, you'll mess up the process." Leonard informs him and the blond scowls at him, "No shit."

He sighs, shaking his head, "So what happened exactly?"

Kirk takes a moment to contemplate, "I was on my way back to my dorms after my Astrophysics class when I felt something inside of me move, like bones grinding together. Then I felt really sick and I threw up. Then everything just went black and apparently somebody called medical over and they brought me here. Said I passed out from the pain and something about fluid in the lungs."

He shakes his head, huffing out a long breath. He has a feeling that this won't be the only time Kirk does something stupid. He'll have to keep a closer eye on the kid in the future.

Eyes daring a glance, Leonard turns towards the blond, "Why am I here?" He asks the question Kirk is dreading to hear, and despite the blond's paleness, his face blushes a shade of pink from embarrassment.

The blond groans, snatching the sheets, his eyes glowing with the sudden gripping fear, as if he doesn't come up with something Leonard will get up and leave, abandoning the blond. But of course Leonard won't do that, leaving him to wonder what the blond is hiding exactly, to make him so afraid of trust.

"I don't know, I figured it'd be better if you find out sooner than later what happened."

Leonard nods, allowing the kid that, of course he knows there's a deeper reasoning for Kirk wanting him here, but he won't make him say it. He'll let the blond have some pride.

Luckily for the both of them, to spare Leonard some of the awkwardness and Kirk the pain, when Nurse Chapel comes back, Kirk opts to turn up the level setting and his bones fully repair right before two in the afternoon.

The blond's still in the bed when Leonard gets to his feet, the nurses removing the equipment. Leonard smiles, gazing down at the young man, eyes shut and breathing slow for he fell asleep halfway through the repair of his second fractured rib, though Leonard can't blame him.

"Will you be leaving?" Chapel asks, seeing that he has gotten up and put the chair back into its proper place, "Yeah I have a class in ten minutes." Leonard explains and the nurse nods, "Would you like to be notified when he's released? Doctor M'Benga will be in shortly to look at him."

"Yes, I'd like to be notified, thank you nurse."

She smiles, "No problem."

With hunger at the pit of his stomach, he makes the race against time, rushing into his dorm room to grab his discarded PADD and sprint to the main building where Organic Chemistry is being held. By god he has never run this much in years. He's breathless by the time he makes it doorway.

Braving on a smile, Leonard strolls into the class and takes the first seat he sees, finding his stomach rather unsettled as it rumbles within the emptiness. Damn Kirk is to blame for it. The kid sitting painfully through the bone knitter process unnerves him, and now Leonard's a doctor, but that was almost too much for him, watching somebody he knows voluntarily go through that. Makes Leonard wonder, why is Kirk in such a rush to get out? Is the blond really that desperate and afraid of hospitals to take the quickest way out even if that means more harm?

Is there something more to this, is Leonard missing something? That something being the key to understanding Kirk. Learning why he's the way he is. The kid has an atmosphere about him, one that attracts and pulls people in, but only those of which he wishes. But he also gives off, leaving people to show contempt towards him, whether for the fact of the name he carries, or the very essence of his personality. The very being of Jim Kirk draws Leonard in, making him wonder what precisely the blond is hiding. He knows it's none of his business to poke and prod around, but there's a glint of despair and loneliness in those lustrous blue eyes, begging for someone to come and help, whether or not the blond's own brain is aware of the fact.

It can't be helped, Leonard has to, he has to find out what's driving the blond and why he's so tense, so brittle, almost breakable, not from the outside but the inside. There's something he's carrying, something weighing him down and dragging him to the earth's soil and Leonard McCoy is determined to figure out just exactly what that something is.

 **Author's Note: So Bones is on a quest to figure out Jim Kirk? I guess we'll see how far he gets. Shout out to those of you who have left a favorite, follow, or review, it means the world to me. Hopefully this chapter isn't too short, I haven't had much time to write lately and I apologize for that, but I won't abandon this story I've already got some great ideas for future chapters, but there's always room for input, so if you have any ideas pm me! Live Long and Prosper.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

When he comes to, he's not surprised he's alone, though he can't say he's not disappointed. The room is rather still without the southerner grouching at him from the chair, holding a soothing peace, seldom considering the fact he's lying in a hospital bed, an IV stuck into his forearm. Usually this is when he gets up and leaves, but deep down he doesn't want to let down McCoy, he doesn't want to cause more worry for the man. McCoy already has his own baggage, Jim can tell by the way he gazes off distantly or stares at him with those round caring brown eyes, as if searching for something to fix to make up for something else.

Jim knows he's not much better himself, but at least he doesn't display his emotions like a showcase, well that's what he thinks.

Sitting up, he groans, running a hand over his bare chest, feeling lower until he can touch his repaired ribs. The bruising itself has only faded slightly, but the throbbing pain is gone.

"We ran a scan over you, you're perfectly healthy. Those bruises should go away in a couple of days." Doctor M'Benga enters the room, a PADD in his hand, "When can I leave doc?" He prompts, staring up to meet the man's eyes. "I'm sending some forms to your PADD; I'll need them filled out by Thursday."

Jim nods, "Will do."

"Alright, a nurse will bring in with your belongings in a moment here. And make sure you come in tomorrow whenever it's convenient for you, we'll just have to run a quick scan to make sure everything's still in place. Until then, you're good to go." M'Benga informs him, "Alright, thanks doc." Jim grins and watches as the doctor leaves and seconds later Nurse Chapel takes his place, carrying a bag at her side.

"Okay Mister Kirk, here's your clothes and your items. If there's anything missing just contact us and we'll track it down for you. I'll take you over to change then I'll show you out." Chapel says, placing the bag down and coming over to pull out the IV and shut down the bio bed.

Once done, she steps back and lets Jim get to his feet. His knees only shake slightly until he stretches fully out and his legs cope with the weight once more. Smiling, he snatches the bag and follows Nurse Chapel to the bathroom.

He gives a thankful nod and steps inside, walking to the first stall and closing the door. Quickly he changes, grateful to get out of that itchy gown and back into his red uniform which has been thoroughly cleaned, removed of any bloodstains he may have left after he puked. He steps out, feeling anew, throwing the worn gown into a chute for the used clothes.

Plastering on that casual grin, Jim strolls out of the bathroom, the bag with the rest of his belongings in his hand.

"This way Mister Kirk." Chapel says and guides him away, back to the main waiting room, "Thank you nurse." Jim replies with a smile and she nods, "Just doing my job. Make sure you come by tomorrow." She calls after him and he gives a little wave before disappearing through the doors and into the main room, shuffling his way through to the entrance which also serves as an exit.

Once outside, he welcomes the summer heat and makes his way back to the Roddenberry dorms. He enters the elevator with a sigh, finding his strength leaving him, a mixture of what has just transpired and the fact he hasn't eaten all day dragging him down. With his eyes barely open, the blond fumbles for his ID card and makes the quick scan before entering.

"Francis?" He calls into the dark room, closing the door and peaking around the edge of the wall to look over at the couch, but it's vacant.

He must have the place to himself then.

Jim doesn't bother cleaning, or finding anything to eat, he heads straight into his room, shuts the old fashioned door and embraces the stillness of it. He dumps the bag on the floor and strips himself of his boots and jacket before climbing into the bed, but he can't help but notice the packaged box, lying sealed on the floor by the drawer. But being weary to the bone, the blond can't gather the strength to get up and open it; instead he closes his eyes and let's sleep overcome him.

It's only a few hours later when someone enters the dorm room, actually make that two people. There's whispers going back and forth and Jim immediately perks up, of course him being a light sleeper he wakes up to any noise. He strains his ears to hear who has come inside, but neither one of them sound like Francis, which greatly alarms him.

He forgot to lock his door after he came in. Finnegan and Arendse said they'd come back. Is it them?

Quietly, he slips out of his bed and goes to the wall with his drawer, supplementary to the door. Jim holds his breath, listening to the constant banter of murmurs going back and forth. Then, the two people open his door, letting it swing open with a slight creak, almost hitting Jim in the face.

The two figures step forward and Jim immediately recognizes them, it's McCoy and Sulu.

"Where is he?" Sulu asks, arms crossing as they stare at an empty bed.

Jim rolls his eyes and slams the door shut, causing both Sulu and McCoy to jump and turn around, clearly startled, "What the hell Jim?" McCoy growls, nearly dropping the pizza box in his hand.

"What are you guys doing here?" Jim implores, still leaning against the wall, trying to look casual and not as if he had purposefully hidden from them, "Brought you some pizza kid. Since you missed lunch." The southerner explains and Sulu nods.

"Oh, okay. Yeah here, we can eat on the couch." Jim stutters, feeling uncomfortable and he can only hope that the darkness of the room hid his blush of embarrassment. He's not used to people being nice to him, let alone bringing him food and actually showing they care. It's an odd sensation to him, the buzzing in his heart and he's not quite sure if he likes it or not.

McCoy and Sulu follow him out and gratefully take a seat on his couch, only pushing away a few wrappers and crumbs.

"Lights sixty percent." Jim orders, and the room brightens up, revealing how truly messy it is, "By god man, it's been what, two days? How is this even possible?" McCoy exclaims, taking a look about, handing Sulu the box of pizza.

Eagerly, Sulu takes out a slice and begins to munch on it.

"It's not me. It's Francis; he's a bit of slob." Jim shrugs, taking a slice of pizza. He's starving, but he won't admit that, and he definitely won't eat this in record time, he'll eat it slowly, act like he's not hungering for the whole damn box.

"Is he home?" Sulu inquires around a mouthful of food, "Don't think so." Jim replies, snatching the TV remote with his other hand before promptly sitting on the armrest of the couch beside McCoy.

The southerner looks up at him, blindly grabbing a pizza slice and taking a bite out of it, all the while keeping his eyes locked on Jim. He glances away from the TV, staring back into McCoy's eyes, and there's something in those round brown eyes that make his heart flutter, skipping a few beats and making his throat catch. It's not any type of attraction between the two, no he himself doesn't sway that way and he's pretty sure McCoy doesn't either. So what is it?

That look can change Jim's mood and he knows it deep down. The way McCoy gazes at him, with almost a glint of disappointment, or is it pity? But either way Jim finds himself unable to disobey the southern man's eyes. His mouth may cause ripples, but his eyes push waves and Jim finds himself utterly lost within them, as if he's stripped down and bare before the man.

Sulu's voice snaps the two out of their reverie, "I'd rather not watch the weather channel guys."

Jim flinches slightly and stares over at the TV and a moment later McCoy does the same, "Yeah, here let me see if there's anything good on." He mutters, flipping through until he finds the one that plays all the reruns, shows from a couple hundred years ago.

"When's Chekov supposed to get here?" McCoy prompts, nudging Sulu on the shoulder, "He uh, he said he'd make it." Sulu replies, taking another bite of his pizza.

Jim hums, glancing at the clock on the wall behind them, between the two bedroom doors. It's only six-thirty. His stomach churns. Where's Finnegan and Arendse? Are they still coming? What if they hurt Sulu and McCoy? Jim glances at the two people on his couch, suddenly finding that his appetite has diminished after only one slice.

Sighing, he shifts to get more comfortable, leaning back and staring at the TV. Hours pass by until the door swings open and all three of them turn their heads around, expecting to see a skinny Russian kid, instead it's Francis, but his face has drained of all color and he looks deathly scared.

"Francis?" Jim says, getting to his feet and walking over, while McCoy and Sulu stand up by the couch, "Kirk, it's Finnegan-he-I think he has a friend of yours." Francis then gazes past the blond and at Sulu, "It's that little Russian kid."

"Who's Finnegan?" Sulu exclaims.

McCoy shakes his head, "Is this the same guy from last time?"

Jim just waves a hand at them, "Where are they?" He pries and Francis takes a moment to think, "They were going into Professor Nimoy's gym, I guess it's open after hours sometimes, but it was empty last time I checked." Francis informs him and he nods solemnly, "Okay, I'm going to go get him." Jim decides and starts for his room to grab a few things, but Francis grips his bicep, "Kirk, he's got friends."

"So do I." Jim replies, giving a nod over to Sulu and McCoy, but Francis shakes his head, "They'll get destroyed."

"We'll be fine." Jims states firmly and goes into his room, shoving on his boots and slipping on his jacket before coming out.

"Jim, what's going on?" McCoy asks, walking over to him and grasping him by the shoulders, jostling him slightly with Sulu peering over, the look of apprehension on his face, "Finnegan has Chekov, I'm gonna go get him and you guys are coming with." Jim affirms, giving each person a quick glance, even Francis who looks quite taken aback now, "No, I'm staying here Kirk; I'm not touching that guy."

Jim glares at him, "If you don't help me then you're with him, and if you're with him you're against me."

Francis shrugs unsympathetically, "I don't fear you."

He only holds the deathly stare a moment longer before beckoning Sulu and McCoy to follow him to the door, "C'mon, let's go get Chekov."

They walk out together and use the stairs to the first floor and the despair on Sulu's face has only grown, making his movements slow yet sharp. McCoy places a purposeful hand on the man's shoulder, giving him a grin, "We'll get him, it'll be okay."

Sulu swallows, "How bad is this guy Kirk?"

"I can handle him." Jim states plainly, keeping a steady pace out Roddenberry dorms and towards the gym with the Asian and southerner dragging behind, "You didn't answer the question." Sulu points out firmly.

"Jim, you just got out of the hospital, we should call security." McCoy tells him, but he shakes his head, "I'm not a snitch Bones."

"Damn it man, the name's Leonard-and if you won't call security I will." The southerner growls, seizing Jim by the jacket to turn him around, to see the gleam of desperation flicker briefly in his azure eyes, "Bones, let me handle it." Jim demands, prying his hands off.

"And see you get your ass handed to you again? No I'm not letting that happen."

Sulu gasps, "This is the same guy who beat you up yesterday?"

Jim rolls his eyes, "I wouldn't say 'beat me up', but yes he was one of them. And Bones, you're not calling security."

"And why is that Jim?" McCoy grounds out, crossing his arms and shooting icy daggers at the blond's face, "Because if you call security, that may stop the situation currently, but those guys will find you, and they will hurt you-so let me handle it."

The southerner shakes his head, "No, it's not happening, Jim you're not doing this."

"Who are you? My mother?" Jim snaps and stalks off, but the two follow him, "It was a mistake bringing you two. Just go back; I'll get Chekov by myself." He says, not glancing over to see their eyes.

"Don't be ridicules, I'm coming with." Sulu replies, matching his quickening pace, leaving McCoy a couple steps behind, "Damn it man, be sensible!"

"Bones, will you shut up?" Jim yells, not turning to face the man following him. McCoy flinches from the outburst, "Okay, I get it. You're upset because the guy choked you out-but Jim, this is not a good idea. You could end up back in medical for god's sake man."

Jim pauses for the last time, whirling around to face McCoy, a mixture of fury and regret in his eyes, "Don't act like you know me McCoy, just leave, I don't need you or your PhD. Doctor my ass, go back to Mississippi or wherever the hell you came from."

He then walks off, not allowing the southerner another word and letting Sulu trail a couple steps away, markedly stuck in the uncomfortable situation. This is not how he wanted things to go between he and McCoy, but the man was getting too close, Jim could see the way he looks at him, as if he's a puzzle waiting to be put together. Damn it he's not broken, and he's nobody's bitch, that's for sure.

The two of them reach the gym building, and they share a quick glance, Sulu gulping nervously while Jim smiles with the anticipation of fist meeting flesh. They proceed inside and look around, seeing that the main gym is locked he goes into the upper gym.

"Sulu!" He calls out, summoning the man over, "What?" Sulu whispers back, climbing the stairs, but there's no need for words, his ears pick up the conversation and his eyes strain to see it across the gym court.

Jim recognizes Finnegan, Arendse, and Chekov, but the other three men he hasn't seen before. Damn, he could've used Francis and McCoy. Finnegan is holding a bottle of whiskey, actually make that two. Chekov is being held between two of Finnegan's goons, while Arendse and the other bully stand a few steps to the side, sharing a laugh. Jake Finnegan comes closer to Chekov and forces him to take a swallow of the alcohol, and afterwards the poor kid is left gasping for breath.

"Don't they have security cameras or something?" Sulu whines from beside him, "Nahh, the campus is old school." Jim responds and proceeds to leave their hiding place near the top of the stairs and walks into the open.

"Hey bastard! Weren't you looking for me?" He announces, his grin widening when he sees Finnegan noticeably jump with surprise, "Ah, Jimmy boy!" Finnegan cheers, giving a nod to the men holding Chekov. The next second they've let go of him and the Russian falls to the ground, looking sick.

"I can't help but notice, you have my Russian." Jim continues, only taking a few more steps forward, allowing Finnegan to close the distance between them, "Oh sorry, I didn't realize he was yours." Finnegan sneers, coming only a few feet away from the blond.

"You came here alone?"

Jim nods, "Not like I have many friends around here."

"How about that doctor?" Finnegan laughs and Jim tenses slightly, "Saw that he came to the hospital to hold your hand. It was cute."

He ignores Finnegan, "Alright, c'mon Finnegan, just give me Chekov and I won't mess up your pretty face."

Finnegan chuckles delightedly, obviously giddy about the growing tension in the air, "Oh Jimmy, how funny. If you want Chekov, you'll have to take his place."

Jim thinks about it and he feels Sulu's eyes digging into his skull. He can only hope and pray that Sulu stays put, or shit could go down.

"What do you want me to do?" He questions, allowing Finnegan to sling an arm around his shoulders and guide him over, "I have this fine whiskey here, but I need someone to help me finish it off, care to have a drink?" Finnegan replies, lifting up the bottles in his hands.

Jim takes one, giving it a sniff, "This isn't whiskey is it?"

Finnegan smiles, "Your friend couldn't even finish one bottle. Can't stomach it apparently."

He gives it another smell, "This is klingon ale. Where'd you get this?"

"I have connections." Finnegan tells him flatly before shoving him to his knees, setting the other bottle before him, "If you finish the rest of these two bottles, I'll let you and your little Russian kid walk away."

"And if I refuse?" Jim wonders, watching the sly grin form on the man's lips, "Then I'll have your Russian boy thrown in the trash and I'll personally put you back in the hospital. It's a no win scenario for you."

Jim grins, "I don't believe in no win scenarios."

He then jumps to his feet, slamming the half empty bottle into Finnegan's head, causing him to stumble over, but the others grab him, Arendse himself throws a few punches in for good measure before helping Finnegan up. The man growls as he stands up, "Make him drink it, all of it." Finnegan roars and Arendse and the man he had been talking to grab the last bottle, popping the lid off.

"Sorry little man." Arendse says, yet he smiles as he grabs Jim's face, forcing his mouth open and pinching his nose shut.

Jim struggles against the men who are holding him, but they only kick the back of his knees and force him onto the ground. The man comes closer, nearing the bottle to his lips. With one last fight of desperation, Jim glances over to where Sulu should be hiding, but the Asian has disappeared completely, and Chekov is passed out on the gym floor.

Finnegan walks over, "I'll make you believe in no win scenarios." He hisses and gives a nod to the man holding the bottle.

The liquid is then forced into his mouth and as he tries to spit it out, his lips are clamped shut until he swallows it down, only allowing him to breathe briefly before another mouthful of the klingon ale is dumped into his system. Each time he swallows, the more blurry his vision becomes, and the taste only gets fouler, leaving a fiery sensation in his throat and causing his stomach to twist into knots.

By the time he finishes the bottle, he's limp dangling between the two men, visibly shivering and sweating profusely.

"Alright, c'mon lets clean up here and leave." Finnegan's voice echoes in Jim's ears.

And suddenly he's falling, his face hitting the floor, drool rolling from his parted mouth as he lays there in his stupor. There's a quick shuffle of feet and clamoring before the noise dies down altogether and the only people left are Jim and Chekov, both laying on the floor.

Gathering the rest of his strength, Jim pushes himself up onto his knees, trying to stop the world from spinning away.

"Ch-Chek…Chekov." Jim finds himself stammering, his whole body quivering with the new introduced alcoholic beverage.

The redhead groans, stirring from his awkward position on the floor, "I-I told you…I was un-under…the d-drinking age." Chekov stutters, crawling over to Jim, gripping him by the shoulders to stop from falling over onto his side, "S-sorry kid, forgot…you're only f-fourteen." Jim smiles dumbly and Chekov meets it.

He then peels off the kid's hands, standing to his feet only to stumble back, but he runs into the wall before he hits the ground. Blinking, he glances at Chekov who's shakily standing up.

"C'mon k-kid. Let's get…out of h-here."

Jim staggers over, grabbing Chekov and slinging the boy's arm over his shoulder and snatching his waist, just like McCoy had done for him the other night. He then drags Chekov along with him, stumbling over to the stairs. But the poor kid, before he even takes one step down, throws up and barely holds back the choking sobs.

He pauses, grabbing Chekov and putting him into a hug, "It's-s gonna b-be o-kay." Jim reassures him and the redhead nods into his shoulder before pulling away and using a clenched fist to wipe away the tears.

They nod at each other and Jim helps Chekov down the first step of the stairs, finding his own coordination and balance askew. The Russian aids in steadying the both of them by grabbing the railing and clutching onto Jim's shirt while he still has the kid's arm over his shoulders.

Together, they make it down the stairs and to the bottom floor, now they just have to walk out the building and they'll be on their way back to the dorms. But Jim's vision is becoming splotchy and Chekov can barely put one foot in front of the other. Despite the odds, Jim's pure determination is what gets them from point A to point B. They even make it a few steps outside until Jim's shaking so badly he can't stand any longer and they both collapse onto grass.

Chekov is on the ground beside him, using his arms to push himself back onto his feet, "C'mon Jim." The redhead says, helping Jim up, but they only make it few steps further until they're both falling over once more.

Jim groans heavily, his breathing is becoming short and despite the summer night heat, he's shivering as if he's caught in the dead of winter without a coat. He tries to get up by himself, but he then feels Chekov begin to lift him onto his feet, but when he glances over, he sees that the Russian is still lying on the ground, which only leaves him to wonder. Who's grabbing him?

 **Author's Note: This chapter didn't really go according to plan, but it isn't too bad I hope. I thought maybe Chekov and Jim needed to bond a little bit, though I really didn't mean to make Bones and Jim fight, it just happened. But I guess it comes naturally for them. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and stick around for the next one-oh and I've noticed that the title right above the chapter isn't centered? I don't even know if that's just on my screen, but for now on I'll just throw up the chapter and it's number. Thanks for being amazing and all the incredible feedback. Live Long and Prosper.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

He couldn't feel angrier at himself, or that blond bastard for that matter. With all the rage and resentment, it feels like Jocelyn all over again; scratch the marriage, kid, and divorce though. Leonard can see the fact he's pushy, and is overeager to know all the details, but he didn't push Kirk, maybe nudged him and he certainly did not pretend to know him, he was just being logical. If Kirk can't respect logic, then maybe they shouldn't be friends, though he's pretty sure Kirk hasn't even considered them that before and he definitely won't now.

Sighing, Leonard only offers one last longing glance over at the double doors to the gym, where Sulu and Kirk had disappeared mere seconds ago. The blond had seemed afraid, yet prideful. He doesn't have the strength to overcome his drive for violence, if that's what he really wants. But Leonard feels it's not a want, but a need, James Kirk needs the violence. He's only known him for around sixty-ish hours, but he's learned to read Kirk's type, headstrong and full of denial.

Though, Kirk has sent himself on a path that Leonard's just not willing to follow, so he simply lets go. If Kirk wants to go, he can tread that path alone.

Turning, Leonard goes to the left of the building, steering towards the Barrett dorms at a slow and steady pace, head bowed in sorrowful thought. Though, he finds himself veering from the path so he corrects his direction and it takes a couple minutes longer for him to reach the front of the building, heart heavy and aching.

Who knew he could feel this terrible? He was just trying to help, how did it turn into an argument? But he won't apologize; Kirk was being the asshole, not him.

Leonard reaches out for the sensor to the door of the building, but a voice shouts out at him, "Leonard wait!"

He pauses, debating whether he should ignore it and go inside, or actually face the person who has called to him. Growling, he glances over his shoulder to see Sulu full out sprinting straight towards him.

"Sulu? What the hell is going on?" He asks as the man comes to skidding halt before him, "It's Jim and Pavel, they're in trouble." Sulu says between gasps of breath, leaning over with his hands on his knees.

"Tell me something I didn't know." Leonard retorts and goes back to opening the door, but Sulu grabs his wrist, "There's five guys and they have Jim."

Leonard's heart begins to pound, "He asked for it."

"Leonard please, they're going to make him drink something, I don't even know what is it, but it made Pavel really sick." Sulu pleads, looking longingly into his eyes.

"Sulu I'm not sure about this…" Leonard begins, not meeting his gaze, for if he does he'll surely say yes, "Leonard, I can't do this by myself." Sulu points out, slowly letting go of Leonard's wrist, "Call security." He says bluntly and activates the door, stepping inside with Sulu following, "I can't risk them going after Pavel because of it, he's only fourteen! He's just a boy, please Leonard, I don't know who else to go to."

Leonard stops at the base of the stairs, gripping the railing tightly and shaking his head, "This is going to end badly isn't it?"

Sulu shrugs, "With Jim involved, I believe so."

He nods, rubbing his face with a hand, slightly tugging at the dark brown hairs stooping over his forehead, "Okay, okay. Let's go get them."

"Alright, I know a back entrance we can take." Sulu says and runs off, leaving him to go after him.

If Leonard had complained about running earlier, then he certainly hasn't run this fast ever before in his life. Sulu is a small agile man, so leaping down stairs and dodging bushes and trees are easy for him, Leonard on the other hand lags a couple yards behind the Asian. But they make it to the gym in record time, though the air it oddly still and quiet.

"Where are they?" Leonard whispers as he follows Sulu up the back stairs, the opposite side of the main entrance, "They're not here!" Sulu exclaims once they make it to the top.

"You sure we're at the right place?" He prompts, but Sulu nods, "I saw them, they were here. They must've left."

"Do you think they took Jim and Pavel with them?" Leonard questions and Sulu turns to stare at him, "I'm not sure."

"Okay, let's have a look around towards the front, since we've already come through the back." Leonard decides and Sulu agrees.

The two of them then scurry across the court and to the top of the stairs, though Sulu stumbles, but catches himself before he hits the hard ground, "What is that smell?" Leonard grumbles, coming beside Sulu, "Its puke." Sulu replies simply, staring down at the puddle he almost slipped in.

"They must've gone downstairs then." Leonard says and basically jumps all the way down with Sulu close behind.

They run all the way down the hall and push through the front doors, welcoming once more the summer night air. Sulu appears beside him moments later and they share a quick glance before rushing forward.

About ten yards away are two figures, both slumped over and groaning. It has to be them, Kirk and Chekov. Leonard reaches them first and he immediately recognizes the blond tufts of hair. Though Kirk is shivering, his teeth are chattering painfully loud.

Sulu collapses beside Chekov and pulls him over, while Leonard reaches down and hauls Kirk up, but he's sluggish and incoherent. He fight's Leonard's arms and mumbles things under his breath. But his struggle is futile.

He places a hand on Kirk's forehead. The kid's burning up.

"Shit, how's Pavel?" Leonard asks, gazing over at the pair, Sulu as well has gotten to his feet, with Chekov leaning heavily on him, "A bit warm and shaky, but he should make it."

"Hikaru…I'm glad you're here." Chekov mutters with a smile, patting his friend on the shoulder, "C'mon, let's get them to my room, its closer." He announces and starts to steer Kirk in the right direction.

And Leonard soon finds out, that Kirk cannot walk in a straight line to save his life while drunk. The kid smells heavily of alcohol, though the tinge at end of scent is off. Definitely not earth made beer.

"Hey Jim, can you hear me?" He nudges the blond as they trudge along the path to Barrett dorms, "I-I don't b-believe…in no-no win scenarios." Kirk stammers, his voice catching in his throat, "Its okay, I believe you kid." Leonard replies, tightening his grip on Kirk's waist when he almost topples over.

Chekov only seems slightly in better shape, grinning stupidly at Sulu as he helps the Russian kid walk.

Leonard shakes his head and leads the group to his dorm, though they take the elevator because neither Kirk nor Chekov would make it two steps up before falling over. As soon as the doors slide back, Leonard is pulling Kirk to his door, using his ID card to unlock it and bring them all inside his room. And once more, thank god for not having any roommates.

"Go ahead and put Chekov on the couch." Leonard informs Sulu as he dumps the blond not so ceremoniously on the chair for his mini dining room table.

Kirk simply groans, head hanging and his arms wrapped about himself as if to stop the shaking from coursing through his body. Leonard grabs a glass of water and a garbage can before walking over to where Sulu has Chekov lying on the couch.

"Hey Pavel, how do you feel?" Leonard asks, kneeling down beside him, after signaling Sulu to go watch over Kirk, hopefully the moron doesn't fall out of his chair.

"Sick." Chekov responds with a moan, but he's coherent, "How much did you drink?" He prompts, bringing the redhead up into a sitting position, "Half a bottle sir." Chekov only slurs slightly, but Leonard presumes he's not drunk and safer to move around, "Half a bottle of what?"

Chekov hums, wheels turning in his brain, "Klingon ale I believe."

He nods, "Okay, now tell me Pavel, was this your first time drinking?"

"I'm under age s-sir. I don't drink." Chekov explains, "Where's Jim?"

Leonard smiles sympathetically, "He's right over there in the kitchen, he's okay." Chekov nods, somewhat relieved now, "Alright, I want you to drink this, and if you feel like you're going to throw up, here's this." Leonard says, handing him the glass of water and shoving the trashcan between the Russian's knees.

Chekov head bobs up and down as Leonard scrambles over to where Sulu's holding Kirk in place, so he doesn't slide off the chair and onto the unforgiving floor.

"Thanks Sulu, I'll take it from here. Your boy Pavel may throw up a few times, but just let him sit here for a couple minutes before you take him home." Leonard tells him, giving him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and then promptly taking his place beside Kirk.

"How we doing kid, talk to me." Leonard urges, pushing Kirk's head back and peeling his eyelids open, the blond only tries to push him away, "G-go away." Kirk whines childishly, releasing a groan of annoyance.

"Damn it Jim, its Leonard, stop fighting." Leonard grumbles, though Kirk doesn't seem to register him any more than he does the fact he's actually struggling against Leonard's hands.

"Jim, its Bones!" He insists and Kirk stops once he hears the funky nickname, one of which Leonard will never forget, "B-Bones?" Kirk stutters weakly, and Leonard's heart falls from his chest, "Yeah kid, you're safe now. Now lemme help you."

Kirk nods, blinking through his haze and watching as Leonard places a cool hand on his forehead. If Leonard didn't know any better, he'd think Kirk just leaned into the touch of his hand pressing against the burning skin of the kid's forehead.

"Alright, I don't have much to work with here. So you gotta tell me, does anything hurt?" Leonard prompts, kneeling down and gazing up at the kid's fogged blue eyes, "My head." Kirk states firmly, "Anything else?"

The blond seems to think about it for a moment, but by the way he unconsciously grabs at his abdomen, Leonard already knows the answer before the blond even has the chance to answer, "My st-stomach."

Leonard nods, "Okay, that's all?"

"Yeah."

Damn the kid's swaying in the chair. Now Leonard can tell that Kirk's an alcoholic, he's known since the moment he met him on the shuttle, but this klingon ale seems to have him all wound up and aching.

"How much did you drink?"

The blond hums nonchalantly, "I had one b-bottle. That's all B-Bones I swear." Kirk's tone of voice goes from a jumbled stammer to frantic whines, as if Leonard doesn't believe him he'll get up and leave, "I believe you, I know you didn't do it on purpose…" Leonard says, though Kirk did get himself into the situation on purpose, but it was for decent reasons, though Leonard begs to differ.

"B-Bones, I'm c-cold." Kirk complains, still shivering uncontrollably in the chair, Leonard offers him a caring smile; "It's the fever talking kid."

Though, as Leonard notices, the kid's clothes are soaked in sweat, making them stick to his skin. By god the blond is sweating buckets now that he thinks about it. His body must be reacting poorly to the klingon ale. Alcohol poisoning perhaps? He can only hope it's not.

"Okay, umm. I have a spare room, I'll take you there." Leonard decides, bringing Kirk's left arm over his shoulder and grabbing the blond's waist before helping him to his feet.

Kirk whimpers as he body fully extends and can't help but grab at his churning stomach, "Easy now kid, one step at a time." Leonard murmurs, guiding him at a slow pace.

Sulu on the other hand is sitting next to Chekov, rubbing the poor Russian's back as he retches into the trashcan.

Leonard barely gets Kirk into the vacant room, settling him onto the bed smoothly. He then takes a couple steps back, hands tugging at his hair. What's wrong with Kirk? Why is his body reacting so poorly? Chekov's merely sick because this is first time drinking and klingon ale has a higher alcoholic content than most brews. But Kirk, he's used to going on drinking spews by the looks of it. So why is he so under the weather so to speak?

Frowning, Leonard simply watches Kirk squirm, curling into a tight ball and shivering. The kid's not drunk, he doesn't have alcohol poisoning, but his stomach and head hurts and is conjuring up a nasty fever. Though, the headache is probably the fact that the kid hasn't eaten or drank much in the past twenty-four hours. But his stomach, his stomach shouldn't hurt unless he's having some sort of reaction to the klingon ale.

"Leonard!" Sulu's voice drags him over, and he only gives Kirk one last glance before leaving the room and coming beside the Asian, "Something wrong?" His accent his grown thick and it takes a moment for Sulu to decipher his drawl, "Is Jim okay? I mean Pavel's feeling a little nauseous, but Jim over there is shaking like a leaf in the wind."

Leonard looks over his shoulder, seeing that Jim his drawn his knees up to his chest, elbows digging into his stomach with his hands covering his face, "I don't know," He sighs, stifling a yawn that threatens to escape his mouth, "he's having some issues coping with the alcohol in his system."

"Is it because it's klingon?" Sulu asks, taking a moment to gaze up at Leonard, "That's a possibility, he said his stomach hurt." Leonard replies, directing his eyes to Chekov, who's grinning while shakily gripping the trashcan, "Feeling better?"

Chekov nods, "I think I got it out of my system."

"Good, think you're up for a trip home?" Leonard prompts, crouching down in front of the Russian and placing a hand on his forehead, "Not too toasty, you should be able to sleep most of the affects off, but make sure you stay hydrated."

"Ready Pavel?" Sulu says as Leonard stands up.

"Yes Hikaru." Chekov smiles and sets down the trashcan before letting Sulu haul him up, "Want me to take this out?" Sulu asks, pointing at the trashcan.

Leonard nods, eyes wide, "Please do."

Sulu chuckles and ties off the bag before yanking it out, keeping it as far away as possible as he walks Chekov out to the door, "Thanks Leonard!" Sulu chirps and Leonard gives them a small wave as they leave his dorm room, which then draws his attention back to the blond on his extra bed.

Kirk is sitting up now, daring to put his feet upon the ground, "Jim! What do you think you're doing?" He snaps and he can't help but notice the blond's flinch and slight look of desperation to escape.

"I-I thought you left." Kirk defends himself and Leonard shakes his head, "Been here the whole time kid, it's just the fever messing with your head."

The blond exhales, shoulders slumping and somehow appearing much younger than he really is, blue eyes downcast to the floor as if he has just disappointed his parents. Leonard feels his heart pang, air catching in his throat. He can't help but feel responsible for this young man, whatever happened in his past really has him messed up

"Here, let's start with taking those wet clothes off." Leonard suggests, coming next to the bed, but Kirk glares at him incredulously, "C'mon, take it off." He urges and Kirk hesitantly begins to peel off his shoes and jacket, and then pulls off his shirt.

"Ya'know, when I-I said I wanted to go out for a drink yesterday," Kirk begins, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down to his ankles, "I didn't have this is mind." The blond huffs, discarding the unwanted pants on the floor and pulls up the covers to mask Leonard's vision of his black boxers.

"Jim," Leonard starts, sitting upon the edge of the bed, "I know we don't really know each other very well, but will you trust me?"

Kirk stares at him, blue eyes widening at the question. But he eventually nods after a couple of seconds, wondering what purpose the question truly holds.

"Okay, that's good." Leonard says half to himself as he slides off the bed, "Jim, I know it's weird, but I gotta feel your-well check, your stomach." He cringes at his own words and Kirk gazes at him, slightly bewildered.

That couldn't be more awkward.

"I think you might have gastritis, it's inflammation in your stomach lining." Leonard explains and the blond blinks owlishly at him, "It can be caused by alcohol consumption; no matter how little you actually drank."

Leonard pauses, waiting for Kirk to say something, but instead the blond relinquishes his hold on the blanket and scoots forward, waiting for the command to lie down.

"Okay, good. Easy now." Leonard says, guiding the blond down flat so he can fully examine the problem, "Alright, just relax, it'll all be over in a minute." He soothes gently and Kirk just gives him a look before squeezing his eyes shut.

Slowly, not to startle the kid, he places his hands on the blond's stomach, feeling the reluctant shiver that runs through him, "Easy Jim, relax." Leonard continues to coax, calloused hands going to the upper region of Kirk's abdomen and lightly manipulating it.

Though the kid only squirms slightly, but when Leonard reaches for the upper left the blond's feet dig into the mattress and he suppresses a groan, "Okay Jim, I'm going to roll you onto your side, I'm just going to check your back."

Kirk nods.

"Alright, on three. One…two…three."

Leonard shifts him onto his side and this time Kirk can't stop the whimper that pushes past his lips, "Hold still…" He mutters, placing his hands carefully onto the kid's back and sliding them to the upper left portion.

He presses down slowly and Kirk jerks away.

"Sorry. You're done kid." Leonard tells him and watches him smoothly turn over onto his back, "So what's the diagnosis B-Bones?" Kirk asks, eyes gazing up innocently at him, "Well, it appears the klingon ale gave you gastritis, which is what I said earlier, inflammation in the stomach lining. It can be serious but as long as your symptoms go away within twenty-four hours you'll live. You're having all the common symptoms, like abdominal pain, nausea, fever, you'll probably start throwing up here pretty soon, you already look green."

"Thanks Bones." Kirk grumbles, letting a tremor wash through him before sighing.

Leonard pats his bicep with a smile, "No problem kid, I'll be right back, gotta grab a few things."

He the excuses himself from the room, going back to grab the empty trashcan before going into the kitchen. Casually he snatches a new plastic bag and puts it into the little can; he then fills another glass of water.

When Leonard comes back to Kirk, the blond's back onto his side, eyes facing the doorway, with his arms wrapped around his abdomen.

"Here, sit up. You need to drink this." Leonard commands, setting the trashcan on the ground and helping the kid bring himself into a decent incline, back propped up with a pillow.

Kirk takes the glass from his hands and drinks it leisurely, taking his time before placing it on the side table. It's quiet for moment and Leonard can't help but let his eyes fall upon the blond before him, so tranquil and innocent, yet so strikingly devilish and full of zeal. It's odd to see him so motionless, even when he's getting punched in the face Kirk holds that usually vibrant smile that can light up a dark room. But now, it's as if he's been stripped of his pride and cast away.

"Thanks for coming back."

He blinks a few times, seeing that Kirk's eyes are still fixed on the floor, hands nervously plucking at the strings of the blanket on his lap.

"If I didn't you'd still be out there with Pavel and Sulu would be having a heart attack. I didn't want to be responsible for his death." Leonard replies with a dry laugh and watches the quirk of grin on the blond's face, "Ya'know you haven't apologized for yelling at me back there. Are you gonna do it now?"

Kirk hums, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, "Probably not, you were being an asshole."

Leonard strikes him with a hard glare, "Alright, but let's get one thing straight." The blond finally peels his eyes from the floor to look up at him, "And what's that Bones?"

"I'm from Georgia, not Mississippi."

Kirk purses his lips thoughtfully, "Could've sworn you said you were from Miss." Leonard shakes his head, "I went to college there, not the same thing as living kid…" He pauses, taking a breath, "Your turn, where ya from?"

The blond freezes, but his body sags the next moment, "Iowa." Kirk admits with a yawn.

"Eat much corn?" Leonard grins and Kirk debates throwing a pillow at the southerner's head, "Sure, whatever makes you happy."

"Hmm, thought you said you were rich." Leonard says, recalling his quite accurate guess on Kirk's background while they were at the bar the other day, "I may have lied just a tinge." Kirk smiles, crossing his arms, but his eyes have grown glassy with exhaustion, "Though you got the cocky bastard part right."

"Damn right I did." Leonard firmly agrees, giving Kirk a glance as the kid scoots down, eyelids drooping, "Get some sleep kid, you look beat."

"I have to get back to my dorm." Kirk points out, but he can't fight the sleep tugging at his body, "Don't worry about it." Leonard replies as he brings the blanket up and watches as the blond can no longer fight the exhaustion and just gives into it.

Breathing out a sigh, Leonard folds up Kirk's clothes and puts them aside, grabbing the empty glass but leaving the trashcan on the floor. After placing the cup in the kitchen, he returns to Kirk's side. When it comes to patients who are at risk of vomiting, it's best to place them on their side, in case of drowning in their own vomit. Which is just lovely. Though Kirk isn't incoherent so he most likely won't, so the recovery position is just overkill, but the kid should be on his side at the least.

He lets Kirk slip into a heavier slumber until he slowly adjusts him, smoothly laying him on his left side, facing the doorway once more. Once satisfied, Leonard steps back, admiring his work briefly before heading out and to the right, where his room lies. He changes quickly and takes his PADD with him before he leaves. Leonard drags the kitchen chair with him and moments later he's plopped down in the seat, a PADD in hand and all cozy in his pajamas watching over a sleeping Kirk.

Easily at ease, Leonard feels at peace once he realizes he has one class tomorrow, Starfleet History at eight am. Though it's just history, how hard can it be? He assumes that they'll just go over all the future projects and research papers and the requirements for the class, typical syllabus stuff. It's odd having the class once a week, usually it's two at least, but Starfleet runs quite differently. Most classes will entail hours of outside work, most of which will require plenty of hours of research and study in their fancy library. They also hold assemblies and events in the main meeting area and gym, and he's pretty sure they also have field trips for certain classes. And that's not to mention the outside academics, like clubs, sports, and internships they offer. Then Starfleet makes their students pass a class, mandatory of whatever field they signed up for. For Leonard specifically, he'll have a Medical Seminar, which he's certainly not looking forward to.

Before much longer, Leonard's losing focus on his PADD, and his eyelids are beginning to obscure his view of Kirk. Yawning, Leonard sets his alarm for seven in the morning and places it on the ground. He then folds his arms across his chest and stares rather blankly at the blond until he falls asleep to the peace and quiet.

 **Author's Note: It took a little longer to get this chapter in, for no reasons in particular. Thanks for all the feedback again, because you guys are amazing! I try my best to get back to you guys as soon as I can. So I hoped you liked this chapter and stick around for the next one. Live Long and Prosper.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

His night couldn't get any worse. It was bad enough he had to lay there, basically naked, while McCoy poked and prodded at him like he was the newest science specimen. His heart rate had escalated higher than he's ever willing to admit during that lifetime of a minute and of course, his night only gets worse, typical Jim Kirk.

When he'd fallen asleep, right before he'd told himself that he'll just sleep it off, everything would be fine when he wakes up. But he didn't predict that he'd wake up halfway through the night convulsing painfully as his body rejects the horrid liquid in his system.

He's beginning to gag when he remembers the trashcan on the floor and grabs it desperately before heaving up whatever's in his stomach. Gasps of breath escape him as he shakily sets down the bin and sits upright, shivering uncontrollably.

Glancing around, he spots McCoy, slouched over in sleep while propped up in his chair. The man may be an ass, but he sure as hell got some southern charm.

Quietly Jim slips out of the bed, expertly creeping away out the door and into the main living area. Over to the corner is a bathroom. With relief he shuffles over, not making a peep.

Once inside he shuts the door and activates the lights, and that's when he catches sight of his face. Fiery blue eyes have dulled from lack of sleep. A scruffy beard is beginning to grow out and his blond hair has spiked in all sorts of messy directions. His lip isn't as swollen anymore but the bruises on his face and neck have only faded slightly. This then draws his attention to his abdomen. It's only a little sore, but the bruising hasn't changed in the slightest and he has no idea what Doctor M'Benga will have to say about that.

Overall, he's had worse.

He turns the faucet water on and runs the cold liquid over his face, blowing out a long sigh. Then his stomach twists and he's back to holding his gut in place, vomit threatening to spill. Shakily he gets down onto his knees in front of the toilet, grasping the sides with trembling fingers. His throat begins to burn painfully and he loses the struggle to hold it down.

Miserably he spends the next five minutes, heaving the contents of his stomach out into the toilet and afterwards his face is glowing pink from the effort and humiliation.

Jim steps out of the bathroom after he flushes the toilet and makes sure his mouth is clear of the bitter aftertaste. Soundlessly he sneaks back into the room, fetching his neatly folded clothes and putting them on. The blond then remakes the bed and drapes a thin blanket over the southerner before emptying the trashcan of its contents and putting it in its proper place.

Heading back into the room, he peers over at McCoy, "Thanks Bones." He whispers and makes for the door, giving one last look about the room before leaving altogether.

Despite the fact he's now fully clothed, he's still shivering and his stomach isn't very happy about the whole trek back home, though he pushes through it. He's not much of one to complain, to show weakness. He doesn't want sympathy, he doesn't need it. Then there's McCoy. Why does man think he needs his pity? To be comforted? He's not six years old, he can care for himself. Though despite his feelings, why did he call McCoy the hospital? Certainly it was not to hold his hand, but something within him didn't want to be alone, to be in a hospital with no familiarity.

Jim could see how at ease McCoy was within the Medbay, he fit in naturally, not jumpy or unnerved by the constant beeping of machines like he is, maybe that's why he asked for McCoy, to be an anchor, though he's still unsure. He's not sure if he'll ever know the answer.

But don't get him wrong, he truly does appreciate McCoy's help and his rather annoying southern charm, which he hopes to see more of, but there's something about the man. He wants to fix something and not just physically. This intrigues Jim. What could the old southerner hold within? But to find out, that would mean he, himself, would have to open up, and he's uncertain if he's ready for that, actually he might not ever be, not at this rate.

Sighing, the blond brings a hand to his neck, rubbing wearily at the stiffness before entering the Roddenberry dorms, making for the second floor. 227a, to his left, Jim opens the door, quite relieved that its unlocked, he'd left his keycard behind. The room is absolutely silent; all but Jim's labored breathing, finding the tightness in his stomach increasing. But his determination to go to sleep is stronger than the pain.

With a huff he heads into his room, peeling off his clothes. Annoyed he doesn't have anything to change into, he glances around. Wasn't Starfleet supposed to supply them with shit? Then he spots the box on the floor. Curious, Jim opens it up, finding it full of clothes and accessories he'll need, like a toothbrush, towel, shampoo, deodorant, water bottle. All that good stuff.

Of course Starfleet would provide for them. Which then leaves him to wonder, where does he wash his clothes? Damn he really needs to get his shit together. He'll figure it out in the morning; he's not up for another adventure, not right now when his stomach literally wants to climb up his throat.

Body relaxing, Jim slips into a pair of sweats and academy t-shirt that's been given to him and snatches his PADD, setting it to seven thirty, he has Starfleet History at eight in the morning and Basic Warp Design at two. Captain Pike said that the warp design teacher was a dick; well he said 'mean' which Jim translated into dick. So overall, it should be an interesting day to say the least.

Maybe this time he'll be able to get some lunch, might find some ladies. Though he should thoroughly scope out some targets before he starts hitting on random strangers.

With a little smirk on his face, Jim finds himself slipping into a light slumber, breathing becoming heavy and slow.

When his alarm goes off, it doesn't sound any better than the first time, or the time after. He's about ready to destroy the damn thing. It always wakes him with a fright, the alarm noise itself sounds so urgent, causing him to wake with a gasp and bolt upright. Though, in the light of things, he's glad that his stomach isn't hurting as badly, but there is a minor migraine coming on its way. But plenty of hydration and no participation should take care of that.

Groaning he rolls himself out of bed, throwing on a clean uniform and some deodorant while silently reminding himself to find a place to wash his clothes. When he strolls out his room, Francis is up as well, pulling on a clean shirt over his head, hair wet and flat against his face.

"Morning." Jim greets, patting the man on the shoulder before brushing him by and inclosing himself in the bathroom, though he's pretty sure he heard a growl from Francis.

He washes his face and runs a wet hand through his blond spikes, smothering them down and directing them to the side, nice and neat. But he shakes his head, deciding to spike his hair forward and more into a rhino's horn. Finding the look more mischievous.

Grinning he leaves the bathroom, finding Francis by the replicator, picking some cereal to munch on. Jim supposes he as well should grab some breakfast, but his stomach is still jumpy from last night and he's not sure he'll be able to hold it down. But he could do for some water before his head begins to explode.

Remembering the water bottle, Jim fetches it from his room, along with his PADD and ID card and fills it up. The bottle is of simplistic design, all black with the insignia of Starfleet stamped in silver.

Jim doubles checks everything; including making sure his uniform is properly suited. Sticking the ID card into his back pocket and gripping both his PADD and water bottle in his left hand, he leaves the dorm, not bothering with a goodbye, Francis doesn't seem to be the morning type. He plasters on that fake smile and heads for the main building, to the right of his dorms and further away from the Barrett dorms as well as the gym.

At this time of day, the campus is livelier, students bustle to and fro, carrying PADDs at their hips. Some are already chatting away with friends, real smiles and laughs breaking the morning air. Then there's the few students holding hands, planting kisses on cheeks and lips, waving goodbyes and shouting good lucks.

In amidst of these things, Jim feels out of place, a puzzle piece that belongs to an entirely different set. But for the good of it all, it'll have to do. All he has to do is get through three years, that's it. How hard can it be? He'll keep his grades, make the appearances, try his best. He'll behave. He'll be good.

Jim can do that. Be good.

Reaching the building, Jim climbs the monstrous steps to the top and strolls through the main doors, boots slapping nicely onto the marble flooring. Immediately he takes to the stairs, dodging and weaving through the masses, finding their choice of pace rather annoying, between faster than slow but not quick enough to be fast.

Making it to the top, he zigzags through the crowd, choosing to slice through the science hall to get to the history section instead of walking down the art hall, finding it rather odd all the strange paintings and drawings along the wall. He finds the Starfleet History class with ease and slips in, finding the room quite large, bigger than his Astrophysics class. Rows upon rows of chairs are lined up, stairs descending to the stage at the bottom, only intimidating Jim slightly.

The room almost feels nauseating, or it's the gastritis talking, he's not quite sure.

Pushing through the students, Jim places himself to the far left, near the front but not quite there. He looks on, seeing the professor himself settling on the stage, pulling up a stool and proceeding to write his name out on the black chalkboard. Quite old fashioned. Most professors will simply use holo boards nowadays.

He glances about, finding the room quickly filling with students. Jim decides the cause of the throng of people is that this class is a required class. So, this should be all freshmen.

The seats begin to fill and he searches to find anyone familiar, and he does. Across the room on the far side is the girl, Uhura. She's the one he met at the bar the day before he left on the shuttle. Also on that day he got beat up by Cupcake. The brunette sits beside that Orion chick from yesterday, Gaila is her name. Her auburn hair as curly as ever and Jim finds himself drooling over her, though after the stunt he pulled in the bar, she probably doesn't want much to do with him.

Gaze shifting back over, he sees the one and only, Leonard McCoy, head hanging as he trudges along to the center of the room, grumbling apologies as he nearly bumps people over. The southerner's hair is ragged and fluffed up and his hands are without a PADD. He seems to have forgotten it.

Jim swallows, debating whether he should call the man over.

Shoving down his pride, Jim stands, "Hey Bones!" He calls and instantly the southerner's head snaps to his direction, an incredulous look about his face, "Jim?" McCoy huffs, getting up and weaving through the crowd to meet him.

"Damn it kid, you look like death itself. If you weren't wearing that red suit you'd just blend right in with the walls."

The blond rolls his eyes dramatically. McCoy, the ever realist.

"I'm fine, just a little tired, that's all." Jim replies, sitting back and down, seeing the southerner do the same.

There's a moment of silence as the two watch the students settle down, the noise going from stamping of feet to incessant chatters.

Finally McCoy turns to look at the blond beside him, "Y'know you could've stayed."

Jim shrugs. Of course he could have, but he didn't want to. His first guess is his pride, but he knows that's not true. He didn't want McCoy to see him so vulnerable, so weak; he's not ready for that. That's the real reason, but he's not going to admit that to the southerner.

"Could've, but I worried I might've ruined your floor with my vomit." He smirks, toning down the seriousness of McCoy's question, but as always the man doesn't miss a beat, "You already put some bloodstains, some bodily fluids wouldn't have hurt."

He purses his lips, finding himself without an answer, though McCoy did leave air for no reply and Jim only responds with a puff of air.

"Should've told me you were leaving at least." The brunette continues, seeing that Jim has taken the moment to get a drink of water from his water bottle, "Didn't want to disturb you." Jim's voice has grown short, only hoping that McCoy will pick up on how uncomfortable he is, he's not much to dwell on the whys, because he already knows.

He has trust issues.

McCoy hums, "When has that stopped you?"

Jim snorts, folding his arms across his chest, "And here you are again, pretending to know me."

The southerner fixes him with a stern glare, "Jim, I've known you for a couple days-"

"Three."

"-and I'm not pretending to know you, I just recognize your type."

The blond pauses, eyes flickering to the brunette beside him, "Yeah? And what type am I then Bones?" He prompts, raising an eyebrow at him.

McCoy shifts in his seat, "I was wrong about you. You're not the rich snot nose type that I once designated you as. You're stubborn and brazen, and a little pretentious, but not arrogant. You're pretentiousness is more of your cocky confidence the bursts through your bravado. You have a strong front but you're also vulnerable inside."

Jim gaze fixates onto the floor, letting McCoy's words wash over him, "And how'd you come to that ridicules conclusion? Three days isn't enough time to know someone like that."

"I suppose so, but there were some tall tale signs."

"Like what?" He pries, glancing over at McCoy, "Stubbornness, you refused to let me call security, brazen because you're willing to pick fights and actually hang around to go through with them, pretentious because you think you'll actually win, which goes along with your cockiness."

Jim smirks, "Alright, you got me there. But how am I vulnerable? Seems to me you think I'm a pompous bastard." He tries to put the topic to ease, but McCoy keeps grinding, "Willing to explain why you have an irrational fear of hospitals?"

He stiffens slightly, blinking blankly for a few moments beneath the watchful gaze of the southerner, "Is that why you requested me to come to the Medbay?"

"Alright, I hate medical, doesn't mean I'm 'vulnerable' and shit."

McCoy sighs, recomposing himself, "Well, it's more than that…but it's okay, we don't have to talk about it." McCoy quickly adds, seeing Jim's gaze grow firm, "You asked at the bar how'd I know you were a doctor. Well, this is how."

The southerner takes the opportunity to laugh, bringing the tension down.

"People are gonna hate you for it ya'know."

McCoy pauses, blinking confusedly, "Hate me for what?"

"Reading them so well."

The professor draws everyone's attention together before McCoy has the chance to implore further, which Jim is quite thankful for.

"Alright class, quite down!" The professor announces as he places an ear piece in, adjusting the volume promptly, "Welcome to Starfleet History."

Jim and McCoy exchange a look, mentally preparing for the next hour and a half.

"And yes, before anyone asks, this is a mandatory class and it is also mandatory for you to pass with a C or higher, no exceptions. Today is syllabus day, but seriously? This is Starfleet Academy; I don't do syllabi-or syllabuses, so expect homework after this class." The man continues, pacing back and forth on the stage as if he was one of those old preachers getting exhilarated by the gospel. "So, before we begin on the basics of this class and proper emergency procedures. I'll introduce myself."

"My name is John Gill, and I will be your professor for the course of this year-and please don't call me Mister Gill, Mister makes me sound old and I reassure you, I might have some gray hairs but I'm far from old."

Jim smiles, leaning over to McCoy, "Mister Bones."

McCoy drives an elbow into his bicep, "Shut up."

The blond rubs his arm, giving the southerner a glare, "Can't handle a little humor?"

"It's you I'd rather not handle."

Jim gasps, patting his heart and pretending to be deeply offended, "So hurtful Bones, didn't your mother tell you not to say mean things to people?"

"Didn't your father teach you to suck it up and take some insults?" McCoy counters and Jim keeps the plastered grin on his face.

Makes sense, McCoy doesn't know. The man doesn't know he's George Kirk's son, the son of the hero who died saving eight hundred souls aboard the Kelvin. McCoy doesn't know he was born three months premature in the medical shuttle as his father remained behind to insure their safety. He doesn't know that he's fatherless.

"He was a busy man." The blond replies.

Busy being dead that is. Though he won't tell McCoy that.

McCoy sighs, shifting his gaze back to Professor Gill, "It's alright, no one has the perfect father."

And there's McCoy again, making everything turn serious. Can't the guy take a hint? He's not willing to spill the beans. The southerner's always acting as if he's going to fall over and break.

Jim adjusts himself on the chair, glaring over to McCoy to make a comment, but he sees the glint in his eyes. McCoy's broken too. So instead, the blond gives a weak smile and sits through the rest of Professor Gill's speech, groaning when he finds out he'll have to get another textbook. All this goddamn technology and they can't have their textbooks on their PADDs. He doesn't care if studies have shown students retain knowledge easier with old school paper books, he hates carrying them.

When the bell sounds for the class to be over, Professor Gill waves them off and gives them a reminder to check out a textbook and read the first chapter.

It's not even ten in the morning yet and his second class isn't until two in the afternoon.

The pair wait in silence for everyone to clear out before even making the attempt to stand up, shuffling their way to the door.

"Any plans for today?" McCoy asks, letting Jim slip to his right side as they walk out the door and through the hall, "Uhh, get a drink, maybe two." He says, catching McCoy's eye roll.

"Well I'm already done for today. I just need to get that damn textbook."

Jim shakes his head, "One class? I have Basic Warp Design at two. Should be interesting to say the least."

McCoy shrugs, "Be my guest. I don't do engineering."

"Oh it's easy; you just gotta know a few things about mechanics and be good with your hands." Jim informs him and the southerner gives him a look, "Kid, I'm great with my hands, I'm a surgeon."

"Then you're halfway there."

They head down the stairs and out the doors of the building, making a three minute walk over to the library, only further away from Roddenberry dorms. The campus remains bustling with life and color, the trees still green with summer, though soon they'll be peeling away into fiery reds and blazing oranges of autumn.

"You should join me for lunch in the cafeteria later."

Jim grins, "When I had a first date in mind, I wasn't picturing the cafeteria."

McCoy smacks him on the arm, "Yeah and I didn't think I'd be seeing you around again, but I guess we both don't get what we want."

"That's child abuse." Jim whines playfully and the southerner grips his sleeve to pull him away from incoming traffic, "Is not! How old are you?"

"Younger than you."

"That's debatable."

Jim frowns, "Bones, you may got some fancy southerner charm on ya, but beauty isn't included in the package. I'm obviously younger."

McCoy sighs shaking his head, "2227."

He gives a blurted laugh, "2233. Told ya I was younger."

"Not by much."

"Six years is a lot of time Bones."

"You're just trying to make me feel old." McCoy grumps, letting Jim lead them up the steps to the tall library buildings, housing thousands of books and records.

"After you Mister Bones." Jim bows and McCoy rolls his eyes as he proceeds to surpass Jim and enters first, "You're a real goof ya'know?"

Jim smiles genuinely, feeling at ease with McCoy beside him, "My specialty."

The warm feeling that rises in his chest is unexplainable. His mood has grown light and carefree. He hasn't felt like this in years. Jim's not thinking about buying drinks, picking fights, or getting chicks, he's finally just looking forward to spending a day with a person of which he finds doesn't think he's annoying to hang around.

This might be a blossoming of an amazing friendship; Jim can feel it in his bones.

 **Author's Note: I thought it was time for some Jim and Bones bicker, a little less whump and angst going around so they can begin to develop the friendship we all know and love. Of course there'll be more Jim and Bones whump on the way and more of Sulu and Chekov in the next chapter (I think). Also I'm gonna get Gaila and Uhura in it more. Any characters that need to be added as well? I'd love to bring in Spock but unfortunately they don't know him until the end of their third year in the academy so he won't be in it, though he might be inexplicitly mentioned since he's one of Uhura's instructors. But if you think of anyone let me know. Also thanks for reading and leaving those wonderful reviews, you guys are awesome and thanks for sticking around!-Oh and it seems like nothing centers?-so maybe it's time for a new title, maybe I should reply to reviews there? I don't know, got any ideas just let me know. Stay tuned. Live Long and Prosper.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The scent of musky books fills his nostrils and the air is oddly still despite the shuffle of feet and bodies. When the librarian says to be quiet, people truly listen. Leonard is going through some old reads, finding them rather interesting while he clutches the history textbook he came here to check out. The blond is nowhere in sight, he'd lost him somewhere between the rows of sci-fi fiction and fantasy.

It strikes him as strange that someone as restless and zealous as Kirk enjoys sitting down and reading books, though the blond insists he hates them. But his squeal of excitement when he saw the row of the old Lord of The Rings books says otherwise.

The kid is a handful and if Leonard didn't know any better, he'd think he's bipolar. He's as a moody as a teenage girl.

Sighing, Leonard snatches War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, and heads for the checkout, still not finding the rambunctious blond. Quietly he gets the two books checked out by the librarian and says his thanks, taking a few more glances around, trying to find Kirk. Then he spots the kid's blond head bobbing down as he comes back from the second floor.

Leonard rolls his eyes and walks over to meet Kirk. The kid's got at least five different books in his hands, and to Leonard's surprise, they're all nonfiction.

"There you are, thought you took off without me." Leonard grumbles, nudging the blond's shoulder as they come alongside each other, "Thought I'd grab some books I can read during my spare time." Kirk grins, going to the checkout.

He waits for his blond friend off to the side, watching as Kirk simply nods gratefully before scooping up the tower of books, smiling foolishly at him as he nears. Shaking his head, Leonard follows Kirk out of the library, brushing by a few students, and he's not sure but he might've just seen a tail protruding out from one of the girls.

"The girls here are exotic!" Kirk points out excitedly, almost making a twirl while holding all his books, "If you drop those I ain't helping you." He grounds out flatly.

"C'mon Bones," Kirk emphasizes the O in 'Bones', "not looking forward to a little fun?"

"I think I've already made it clear that what I think is fun and what you think is fun, are definitely not the same thing." Leonard replies and Kirk continues to complain, "Alright, fine, what do you want to do tonight? Instead of getting laid-which I may remind you is still on the menu."

"What makes you think I want to do anything tonight?" He asks, seeing the frown that springs onto the blond's face, "Don't be a grumpy old man Bones. You gotta live a little to have fun."

"I had my fun kid. Now it's over." Leonard snaps, not meaning to reveal so much, but it's too late, Kirk's already sniffing out the trail of hurt, "Bones, what happened?"

"My damn ex wife."

Kirk huffs, "Bones, what part of marriage is fun? Before the divorce I mean? That means rules, restrictions, responsibility…"

Leonard hears the word Kirk doesn't say, commitment.

"Maybe you should try getting married someday." He responds dryly, but Kirk brushes his attitude off with a smile, "I don't have to try, girls already love me."

"Whatever you say Mister Beautiful."

Kirk snorts, "Mister is for old people like you."

He heaves a sigh, adjusting the books with his hands, discovering that Jim's balancing five books, a PADD, and a water bottle all at the same time, "I'm only twenty-eight kid, that's not old."

The blond grins weakly, "Two years till thirty is hitting and by the looks of it, it ain't knocking nicely."

Leonard smacks the back of Kirk's head in protest and the blond yelps, "Child abuse!"

"Damn it Jim, stop the nonsense."

"Sorry mother won't happen again." Kirk replies and scurries a few feet away, out of arm's reach so Leonard can't hit him once more, "Let's just get you back to your dorm before I scrap the lunch idea."

"No! We must go on our lunch date; I'm too excited not to go."

He rolls his eyes, finally seeing the Roddenberry dorms come into sight, "It's not a date damn it."

"A get-together?" Kirk prompts.

Leonard shakes his head, "No. A friend having lunch with a friend."

Kirk's brow furrows and he looks confusedly at Leonard, "Friends? More like acquaintances."

He ignores him, "Plus, as your friend I'm supposed to help you fill out those medical files. Doctor M'Benga should've sent them to your PADD. We can do it at lunch."

"How considerate of you."

"You can do them by yourself?"

Kirk shakes his head, "Nope, we can do them at lunch."

"That's what I thought."

Kirk makes it back to his dorms without incident, muttering a few things about visiting the hospital for checkup before waving his goodbyes and disappearing, leaving Leonard stare after him, wondering what exactly is going through the kid's head. Leonard turns and walks over to his own dorms, welcoming the equanimity of his room.

He sets his things on the kitchen table, promptly dragging out his med textbook from his room as well. The room settles as he sits in the chair, two textbooks waiting to be read and his PADD flickering to life before him, letting him select the notepad. Morning light from the windows streams in, causing a glare from the smooth surface of the table itself.

Despite the summer heat, the room is cool, the floor icy to the touch, with the AC unit providing a cold breeze to circulate through the dorm.

Kicking back, Leonard throws his med textbook open, skipping the damn intro and skimming to the first chapter, finding it twenty pages long and lacking of giant pictures to fill the large pages. He groans, wearily rubbing his face as if the book before him would disappear and the tired achiness would leave, unfortunately neither happened.

He blows a breath, composing himself as he types away on his PADD, creating a folder for his med class and creating the first blank document, labeling it '2255.233' for the stardate, August 21st, 2255. This is going to take some time.

Like hell it did.

Leonard lost track of time as he types madly away on his PADD, glancing between his medicine book and the screen, jarring down the notes as efficiently as possible. It isn't until there's a loud banging on his door that he snags away from his homework. He blinks several times to awaken himself back to the real world, seeing the time read "12:27". Shit, he's late for lunch.

"Coming!" He shouts, turning off the PADD and double checking the ID card in his back pocket.

Leonard fixes his ruffled hair and opens the door with the swish of his hand over the sensor. Sliding back, it reveals no one but Jim Kirk, grinning stupidly, uniform unzipped and his shirt un-tucked.

"Bones." The blond cheers and Leonard groans, "Sorry I'm late, got carried away." He explains and Kirk just nods understandingly, "Sulu and Pavel are waiting at the cafeteria, saving our seat."

"Alright, let's go." He smiles, following Kirk out and back to the main building where at the bottom floor the lunchroom is located.

If he'd known there'd be so many people, he would've stayed in his dorm. But it's too late for that now. Even the social butterfly, Kirk, seems slightly overwhelmed by all the bodies and movement. The cafeteria itself is quite large, about half the size of a football field, tables and chairs all over the place in organized chaos.

Kirk turns to him, "Hungry much?"

"Where's Sulu and Pavel?" He asks instead and Kirk shrugs, "Guess we'll find out. There's replicators over here."

"And here I was thinking they'd serve us real food."

"Better than nothing."

Touché.

With Kirk leading, they weave between the masses of people. Leonard's uncertain, but he might've heard a few insults thrown Kirk's way, why that is so, Leonard's not sure. But if they were said, the blond shows no evidence of that being so, his face remaining neutral the entire time.

When they finally make it to the replicators, Leonard's not sure if he's even hungry; the thought of eating fake processed food makes his stomach twist slightly into a knot. Though, Kirk's knowing glare puts him into place. Using his ID card for the scanner, he selects a Caesar salad, the blond goes for the breakfast meal, getting a plateful of scrambled eggs with a side of fruit.

Satisfied with the food choice, they wonder around the room a bit lost until Chekov's squeaky voice calls out, "Jim! Leonard! Over here!"

Kirk's face curves into a grin, "Hey Pavel!" He chirps, sitting down readily beside the Russian, leaving Leonard to sit next to Sulu on the opposite side of the table.

"Took you guys long enough, Pavel and I thought Jim might've picked another fight." Sulu jokes and Leonard rolls his eyes, "Hey, it's not my fault everyone wants to ruin this pretty face." Kirk replies, circling his face with the fork in hand before proceeding to jab it into his eggs.

Chekov blurts a laugh, "You know it's not breakfast anymore?" The redhead points out, giving a raised eyebrow to the plate full of creamy yellow and white eggs, "Yeah? And it's not dessert either, yet you're eating three cookies with milk." Kirk defends himself and Sulu joins in, "I told him to wait for later, but he wanted the cookies and milk so bad!"

"By god man, that's not healthy!" Leonard gasps, seeing the sugar overloaded chocolate chip cookie find its way into Chekov's greedy mouth, "I'm fourteen!" Chekov whines around a mouthful of cookie.

"His metabolism is probably better than mine." Sulu complains, taking a bite from his sandwich.

Leonard snorts, "Doesn't mean he should go around eating whatever he wants!"

Kirk makes a face at him, "Uhh, actually yeah, it does. You're telling me when you were his age you ate salads?" The blond gives a pointed look at his plate, "Alright, fine you got me there."

"Pavel do you even eat green food?" Sulu asks and everyone's eyes fall upon the fiery redhead, "What's green food?" Chekov's replies so innocently, the four of them are rolling with laughter within seconds.

Sulu's the first to gain his breath back, "It's alright, I don't like green food either."

"It's rather bland." Kirk agrees, taking a large bite out of his green apple.

"You say as you eat green food." Leonard mutters and everyone glares at the blond. He blushes slightly, halfway through his bite and they become so silent they can hear the rest of Kirk's jaw crunching into the crispy apple, "This is a fruit, it's different."

"We just said 'green food', didn't say whether it was only vegetables or not." The Asian says and Leonard nods, but his mouth hangs agape when he sees Sulu's sandwich, "Damn it man, there's lettuce in your sandwich!"

Sulu and Chekov gasp simultaneously.

Slowly, Sulu peers at his food, "Aye, that's lettuce alright." Sulu confirms and Chekov giggles, "You can't say you hate green food if you're eating it!"

"Just blame it on the replicators; they're the ones that gave us green food." Kirk prompts, examining his apple as if it has wronged him in some way. "You just always find someone or something else to blame don't you?" Leonard sighs, shaking his head as he forks a mouthful of vegetables.

"Because it's never my fault, duhh."

The southerner huffs, "That's debatable."

"Hey, what are you guys doing tonight?" Sulu suddenly asks and everyone's attention draws to him, "Sleeping." Leonard replies plainly and Kirk gives him a glare, "Nothing, why? Got something worth going to?"

"Yeah, San Francisco is just across that bridge."

Chekov moans, "It's a school night! We can't go that far, we wouldn't be back until three in the morning." Sulu grins, "That's the point Pavel!"

"Hikaru…" The redhead mutters, frowning as he pouts.

Kirk's eyes have filled with devilish fervor, causing Leonard some worry.

"What time do you wanna head out?" Kirk gives a lopsided grin and Leonard growls, "Damn it kid, you're not going anywhere."

"I don't think you should go today, maybe this Saturday?" Chekov suggests, but both Kirk and Sulu snort and shake their heads, "No, we go tonight." Kirk declares firmly and Sulu nods his head in agreement.

Leonard crosses his arms, knowing fully well that Kirk and Sulu will only get into trouble, especially with Mister Trouble Magnet over there. But of course he isn't going to go, he's not meant for that partying stuff, he'd much rather kick back and watch a movie, or sleep even. Chekov beside Kirk looks a little unsure, scratching his red hair absently as he thinks.

"Jim, that's not a good idea." Leonard decides sternly and the blond shrugs, "I think we've already confirmed that you don't know how to have fun."

"Jim, there's a difference between having 'fun' and being reckless. Which one are you planning on doing tonight?" Leonard warns and Sulu glances over at Kirk, now somewhat frightened of the gleam in the man's eyes, "We'll be good. Right Sulu?"

Sulu nods, "C'mon Leonard, why don't you come with?"

"Sorry but I'm not signing up to babysit."

"Pavel, are you coming?" Kirk asks, nudging the boy's shoulder to get a response, "Why not?" Chekov smiles and his eyes flit over to Leonard's, a mixture of uncertainty and confusion twinkling within them.

The boy can't take the pure pressure. Damn it, why does Kirk do this?

"You sure Pavel?" Leonard offers an escape route, but Chekov doesn't chicken out, "Yes, it will be fun."

Leonard shifts his gaze to Kirk's, glaring into those ardent sapphire eyes. Those eyes snap up, meeting the milky chocolate and they share a moment, simply staring into each other's eyes, until Kirk breaks away, going back to stabbing his food.

"Oh, before we forget, we gotta fill out your medical file." Leonard changes the subject.

Kirk's eyes don't leave his plate, "M'kay."

The blond doesn't sound too pleased. Though Leonard guesses he just doesn't like doing anything involving a hospital. "Did you check in with Doctor M'Benga yet?"

"Yeah."

Damn, Kirk's not giving much.

"How'd it go?"

Kirk squeezes his eyes shut briefly before staring at Leonard, showing his annoyance, "It was fine."

Leonard takes a mental step back, "Good, did you bring your PADD?"

The kid's face falls, and Leonard sees that he actually genuinely wants to get it done, "No, sorry I totally forgot, I can run to my dorm and grab it once I'm done eating." Kirk supplies, finishing up his eggs with a mouthful of yoke.

"So, what's the time?" Chekov asks and Kirk nods his head, glancing over at Sulu, "Uhh, how about seven?"

They all nod, besides Leonard. Not in a million years would Leonard go, he's not that stupid. He just wishes at the very least they'll watch out for Chekov, he's only fourteen for crying out loud.

The four of them finish the rest of their meal with mindless chatter of classes and girls, even Kirk muttering a few curses about his own professors under his breath, with Chekov giggling at him. Sulu went on about his math classes and how he's so excited for his pilot training. Leonard commented here and there, but mostly tuned in when Kirk started grumbling about a 'book club' he has to start. When asked why, the blond snorted, "Pike."

Now they were throwing out their plates and heading out, all four going to the Roddenberry dorms. Leonard and Kirk agreed that'd he just help him fill out the records in the blond's dorm.

They say their goodbyes when Sulu and Chekov go to the third floor, leaving the two at the second. Kirk guides him to his door, waving an ID card to activate it. Marching inside, Leonard notices that the kid's apartment is just as messy as before.

"You realize they don't provide a cleaning service right?" Leonard points out with a laugh and Kirk groans, "It's Francis, he's a total slob." The blond complains, taking him to his room, one of which Leonard finds is neat and orderly.

"I straightened it out before I went to medical." Kirk explains, pulling out his PADD from his drawer and entering in a quick pass code to get inside.

He skims through some files before coming to a message from Doctor M'Benga, selecting it and pulling up the medical file.

"Okay, got it." Kirk says, sitting upon the bed's edge and summoning Leonard beside him.

Quirking a smile, Leonard joins his friend, taking the device from his hand and scrolling through the information already provided.

"Alright, seems like there's only a few things to add…" Leonard informs him, eyes catching the long list of allergies, "Damn kid, what aren't you allergic to?"

"Girls, beer, sex. Oh and apparently you." Kirk replies with a grin, making the southerner roll his eyes, "Just what I needed to hear."

Kirk hums, climbing further onto the bed and lying down, hands underneath his head. Leonard scoots forward, sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed.

"First order of business. Have you ever had any past health insurances?"

The blond shakes his head, "Okay, dental?"

Another shake, "Car?"

Kirk sighs, "Nope."

"Alright, have you had any type of insurance?"

"Yeah my mum used to assure me that'd pass high school." Kirk responds, voice laced with sarcasm, Leonard smacks his leg, "Jim." He warns and the blond gives in, "Okay, no I have not."

"Last occupation?"

"Alcoholic."

"Jim."

Kirk sits up, "No I'm being serious, I didn't have a job, I either got paid under the table or I gambled and drank."

Leonard exhales through his nose, "Okay…emergency contact. Jim this is blank." He says with a hint of surprise, seeing the blond shrug, "I don't have any family."

He frowns, seeing there's more to what Kirk is saying, but the kid's not going to budge, not today anyhow, "Mother, father, siblings? Maybe uncles, aunts, grandparents? Anything? Distant cousin? Close friends?"

Kirk shakes his head, bringing his knees closer to his body, revealing the boy inside the man.

"Sorry." Leonard says softly, after realizing Kirk's not making any effort to name anybody. The kid has nobody. At least he can name a few people, one of those being his sweet mother, but Kirk looks so lost, trapped in a past he's not willing to let go of.

The blond's eyes pierce into his mind, "No, uhh, it's fine. I just-I don't have anyone." Kirk tries for a smile, but it falls from his lips all too quickly.

Leonard nods, skipping past that portion and searching for the next, "Any medications or prescriptions you've taken?"

"No."

"Alright, are you in possession of an epipen?" Leonard looks up from the screen, catching the kid's confused expression, "A what?"

"Ya'know, a shot that stops you from dying from an allergic reaction, gives medics enough time to reach you?" Leonard provides, but Kirk still seems a bit lost on the matter, "No, I don't have one."

He sighs, "Okay, I'll put that down as a 'no' then."

Leonard swipes through the rest of the file, the rest of the blank slots are personal questions, one of which he isn't going to be answering for the kid. But before he gives Kirk the PADD, he puts his own information for the emergency contact.

"Alright, the rest of this stuff is for you to answer." Leonard tells him, showing him the list of things he has to fill out. Kirk just nods and starts right away while he just sits and watches.

It only takes a few moments for the blond to finish and hand the device back over to Leonard, "Okay, now I'm just gonna send this back…"

Hitting a few buttons, the file is now sent back to Doctor M'Benga, leaving the two sitting there, wondering what to do next. The kid is the first one to make a move, slowly heaving himself off the bed and arching his back in a stretch.

"You really don't want to go tonight?"

Leonard's eyes snap up at the question, and his hands discard the PADD onto the surface of the bed, "No, not really." He confirms and Kirk nods quietly, "You'll be careful right? Watch over Pavel?"

Kirk smiles, "Of course."

Leonard manages a grin as he gets up, but there's a tightness in his chest. It restricts sharply and it starts to burn into something painful. Even his stomach begins to knot and he has to take a deep breath to stop himself from groaning. Whatever's going down tonight isn't going to be good.

"Wait, Jim." Leonard snatches the blond's wrist.

Kirk's eyes flicker from the grip to Leonard's eyes.

"Don't do anything stupid."

The blond's lips quirk into a sly grin, "I'll be good. I promise Bones."

 **Author's Note: Thanks guys for the reviews and the pms! Just know I try my best to get back to all of you! If you have any questions, concerns, or ideas feel free to message me, I don't bit I promise. I hoped you've enjoyed the story so far and I'd like to give a shout out to LORIOVER50 for all the reviews (since I can't reply to you directly), just know that every review is greatly appreciated! So thanks for hanging around and I hope you wait for the next chapter. Live Long and Prosper.**


	9. Chapter 9

**"Every human being is worth more than the worst thing they've done. All life has dignity. Guilty life too."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 9**

Who knew it'd be so damn hard to find a place to wash clothes? Or maybe it's just him. An hour ago he was released from his warp design class, and if he's honest with himself, he's not sure if he's going to enjoy that class. It sounds like more work he's willing to give, and Captain Pike was right, the professor is a jerk. Professor Brayton.

Sighing, Jim turns around, wanting to rip the hairs from his head. If he doesn't find somewhere to wash his clothes soon, he's going to start smelling, and not in a good way. Jim adjusts the gym bag on his shoulder; he put his dirty clothes in there, hoping to find the stupid washing place, though it's becoming an incredibly impossible task.

He's glancing about when he runs straight into someone, causing the person to stumble and fall over.

"Kirk?" The voice growls and Jim's eyes pop, well, until he realizes its Uhura. He grins, pulling her to his feet, "Sorry, didn't see you there." Jim apologizes, but the fair lady before him shrugs it off, "No surprise, your big ego probably got in the way."

Jim rolls his eyes, snatching her shoulder when she turns to leave. Once contact is made, she gives him a pointed, yet curious look.

"I need somewhere to wash my clothes, got any ideas?"

Must have been the last thing she'd think he'd say, because she bursts out laughing. Holding her stomach as she can barely breathe after a few moments.

"Okay, I don't think it was that funny." Jim sulks, not enjoying all the glances shooting their way.

"Did you just assume since I'm a woman I'd know where to get clothes washed around here?" Uhura chuckles, her look incredulous, yet Jim can't help but feel drawn to her.

"Well, am I correct in assuming?" He prompts, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Her smile falls and she glares at him, "Yeah, I'll show you." Uhura admits, slightly defeated.

Jim grins and follows her, brushing through the crowd, Uhura casting frequent glances over her shoulder to make sure he's still following.

"You know they made announcements about this crap." She says and Jim skips up to match her pace, "What crap?" He pries and his puzzlement causes an eye roll, "Where to wash clothes, get more things, that sort of stuff."

Jim shrugs, "I'm not very observant."

Uhura shakes her head, "So I can see."

There's a pause as Jim chews his lower lip in a nervous habit, "Are you friends with Gaila?" He asks and she snorts his way in response, "Do you know where I can find her?"

"Kirk, just stay away from her, it'll only mean more trouble for you. She told me what happened Saturday." Uhura explains. "Is she dating someone already?"

She sighs dramatically, flicking her hair over her shoulder, "Yes."

"Who?"

"Kirk you're gonna get your head pulled from your spine if you don't stop asking questions."

Jim whines with a moan, "C'mon Uhura, what will happen? I can handle myself?"

She smirks, "Like you got handled on Saturday?"

"Uhura."

The African decent shakes her head, "Not today Kirk, I'm not going to be the one responsible for your funeral. Stay away from Gaila and you won't get pounded into the earth."

"Alright, some other time then?"

"Sure, whatever makes you happy."

Despite not really getting a true answer, Jim seems quite content as he follows Uhura along the path, heading around the main building and past the library, practically on the opposite side of his dorms.

When they arrive she just gestures him towards it, "Hopefully you can find your way from here."

"I can handle it, thank you very much." Jim gives a childish salute to her and marches off, leaving Uhura to chuckle behind him.

He enters the one story building, finding it to look more like a house, with carpeted floors and richly painted walls. One room has a small eatery with vending machines, while another has a pool table along with a ping pong table, neither are occupied. This place is probably busier at night.

Jim heads down the right hall, finding an old storage room, transformed into a working laundry room. There are two girls inside and they only spare him a mere glance before going back to talking. Swallowing he steps forward and finds an empty washer, across the room from the girls. He swipes his ID card over the sensor to unlock the door; he then proceeds to dump his clothes into it. Closing the door, he activates the washer, debating whether or not he should stick around, or leave.

If he leaves, he'll more than likely forget. Plus, how long can it really take?

To Jim's surprise, it's long. He sits around, scanning the room, sighing when the only thing to stare at is the only other occupants in the room, and neither of them seem interested in him. Actually, ten minutes in he realizes they're lesbian, he saw the kisses they planted on each other's cheeks.

Now he's hunched over, cheeks blushing in embarrassment, as he berates himself for staring at the couple.

Heaving a sigh, Jim snatches his PADD, scrolling through a few settings and apps already downloaded onto the PADD. Unfortunately, Starfleet runs a tight ship, restricting most actions on the device, including downloading new apps onto it. Of course he can simply hack into it, but he figures the security right now is probably on high alert for that, seeing that most hackers would probably be changing their PADDs right now, so he figures if he lays low until later into the year before messing around with it, would be best.

Jim swipes through the announcements and school news, not finding anything worth reading, but as he sees he's not going to be going anywhere soon, he starts reading.

He's there for about an hour once he gets his clothes out of the dryer, and he's pretty sure in some places they're still damp, but once the couple left, the place felt bleak, and slightly unnerving.

The blond gathers to his feet and swings the bag over his should before leaving the room completely. As he leaves, he notices a couple people in the eatery, though he doesn't stop by, he simply exits the building and makes the long trek back to his dorms. Luckily he gets home without incident and the only person in the room is Francis, who's passed out on the couch, snoring loudly.

Jim rolls his eyes and places his belongings in his room, and checks the time. He still has half an hour before seven. Groaning, Jim brings himself to actually clean up, grabbing a trash bag and stuffing all of the empty pizza boxes, beer bottles, fast food wrappers, and leftovers, inside of it. He throws Francis' things in his rooms and makes the room somewhat decent before there's a knock on the door.

To say he was surprised, would be an understatement, he practically jumped out of his skin at the noise. Cursing himself, Jim comes to the door, opening it and welcoming the sight of Sulu and Chekov.

"Ready?" Sulu inquires, Chekov peaking over his shoulder. Jim nods hurriedly, "Yeah, lemme grab a few things."

He leaves them at the doorway, snatching his card and wallet before reappearing before them.

"Alright, let's go." Jim replies, all sorts of mischievous popping into his mind.

The overly joyous group skips down the stairs and into the evening air. The sun is hanging low, beginning to cast long shadows over the Starfleet campus. There are a few students walking by, carrying books, bags, holding hands, bickering, shouting, all that good stuff.

"So, we walking or getting a ride?" Jim prompts, following Sulu with Chekov hopping excitedly up and down beside him.

Sulu scoffs, "There's no way in hell I'm walking all the way to San Francisco."

"We called a taxi." Chekov explains.

Jim nods and Sulu leads them to their ride, all three of them cramming in the back, Chekov in the middle with the Asian giving the directions. They all buckle up and Jim can't help but notice the redhead shaking with anticipation.

"You okay Pavel?"

Chekov's glances at him, "Yes, just a bit nervous."

"I always forget you're just fourteen." Jim laughs, slapping the Russian on the back with a grin, "Fourteen or not, I'm gonna show you how to live a little." He declares and a confident smile spreads across the boy's face, "Sounds great."

They go across the Golden Gate Bridge and welcome the shimmering lights of San Francisco. Buildings tower over them, their peaks reaching up for the darkened sky. Traffic stoplights flicker with colors and shuttles bustle to and fro. The noise is a constant buzz and despite the lateness in time, people still whisk about in the streets.

The three of them share a single glance, all nodding knowingly. First stop, get Chekov inside a club.

Sneaking the teenager in is the easy part, simply bribery handled that one, keeping Jim in check is the hard part.

Loud music, drunk people, and hot waitresses blend together once inside. Chekov's eyes light up and he glances anxiously about, even Sulu seems somewhat unsure, "C'mon guys, live a little." He says, pushing them forward towards the mass of people dancing.

"I don't dance!" Chekov shouts, "Nonsense! You're dancing tonight." Jim declares.

Twenty minutes in, they're all separated, but Jim doesn't care, he's too busy getting himself into another girl. Usually Jim waits until he's drunk, but he can still do it sober. The girl on the other hand is utterly drunk, but hey, she came onto him. He's just helping her.

They do it in a booth, him on top of her, pushing his lips onto hers. Her nails claw into his short mused hair and her legs wrap tightly about his waist. Jim grins down at the brunette before biting at her neck.

Suddenly he's being torn from her body, hefted on his feet and pushed into the wall. Dazed Jim blinks, preparing to be punched in the face, but it's just Chekov and Sulu, glaring at him.

"Hey! I was in the middle of something." He complains, but Sulu sighs at him, "Chekov hates it here, I'm gonna take him to a bar, wanna come?"

Jim ponders, glancing over to the annoyed girl and back to his friends, "Yeah, bros before hoes right?"

The three of them scamper off, leaving the club behind them and finding the closest bar.

It only takes about ten minutes for them to get comfortable. Sulu lounges back in the bar seat with Chekov beside him. Jim is elsewhere, snatching more drinks for the three of them. Tonight isn't as exciting as he thought it was going to be. The thought of picking a fight is lingering within his mind. He's restless, maybe slightly overwhelmed with this whole "schooling" crap, but he can't fight, not here, not with Chekov and Sulu. He can't be responsible for them if they get hurt. It wouldn't be fair. Also McCoy would have his neck if he gets injured.

The blond snatches the drinks, shuffling back over to his companions.

"I don't know…" Chekov begins, but Jim smacks him playfully onto the shoulder, "Nonsense, drink up kid."

He slides the drinks over smoothly and they all take a sip at the same time. Chekov still seems somewhat skeptical, but he joins them nonetheless.

"Any ideas?" Sulu prompts, giving them a glance.

Jim shrugs nonchalantly, "We can do anything you want to do."

Sulu hums, tapping his chin, "We should teach Pavel how to hit on a girl because you should've seen him at the club. Pretty sure he hit on a few guys."

The Russian's eyes pop out of his skull, "No-no-no, I would much rather not." The boy protests, making Jim chuckle, "C'mon Pavel, we'll pick you an easy one."

"I'm-I'm not good with girls." Chekov insists, but Jim and Sulu have their mind set, "No it's alright, I'll play your wingman."

Chekov turns to his best friend, "Hikaru, please I don't want to do this."

Sulu laughs, standing up with Jim, "Don't worry Pav; I'll be watching you the whole time."

They're all making their way over to the front of the bar, when Jim's name is shouted out from across the room. They all pause, Sulu and Chekov looking at the blond's confused face.

"Who was that?" Sulu asks as Chekov peeps around them.

"I don't know." Jim admits, but the dread churning in his gut tells him otherwise.

A tall lanky African America reveals himself from the crowd, its Arendse, "Jimmy! What brings you here?" The man sneers, slinging an arm about his shoulders, "Oh ya'know, just the usual. What brings you here, so far away from you daddy?" He quips back.

Arendse huffs, his breath smelling of liquor, "Oh Finnegan's here. Passed out drunk."

"I'm glad you acknowledge the fact he's your dad." Jim replies, brushing the arm off.

"Jut humoring you." Arendse explains, crossing his arms, "Well, what do you want?" He pries, Sulu and Chekov standing behind him.

"Oh, I just wanted to apologize to your little friend. The Russian boy."

Jim becomes more defensive, "Stay away from Pavel."

"Just lemme see the boy. I won't touch him."

"No." Jim urges firmly, causing Arendse to frown, "Jimmy-"

"No, I said no. Just leave before I make you."

"Jim!" Sulu whines from behind him.

The last thing they need is a fight; they'll surely get kicked out of the bar. Though Jim doesn't appear to be listening. His fingers curl into fists and his eyes harden into a glare. Arendse freezes, he came here to mess with the blond, not start a fight, but the 'daddy' comment has him tied up. Punching James Kirk is the least he can do to get revenge.

"Let's take this outside. Be civilized?"

"Jim what are you doing?" Sulu snaps, snatching Jim's arm before he turns to follow Arendse, "Being civilized." Jim grins that stupid grin and Chekov freezes. He recognizes that grin. It's the same one Jim used right before he got forced to drink klingon ale. That didn't go well for either of them.

"Please, Jim." Chekov says, gazing up at the man's bright blue eyes, "Don't worry Pavel. I'm gonna take care of you guys."

With that, Jim strolls confidently after Arendse, Sulu and Chekov trailing behind him. Whatever's about to go down, it's not good. Though, the way it turns out, nobody expected.

It starts with Arendse and Jim discarding their jackets, with the other two making themselves comfortable within the alleyway. The redhead is nervous to say the least, but Sulu is being more observational, watching Jim's tense movements as he struggles to loosen up, while Arendse seems ready to punch a hole through the blond's face.

Then Sulu sees it. Arendse has a knife.

Jim rolls his shoulders back, craning his neck to pop it.

"You ready?" Arendse teases, keeping the blond's attention up at his face, rather than his hands, "Always." Jim responds, offering the man a smile.

Arendse makes the first move, landing a fist into the blond's arrogant face.

Pain flares up in his previously bruised eye socket, and he's left blink away the pain as he straightens back out. But he's slow. His body's been through a lot in the past couple days, he's sore and still aching in many places.

By the time he can even stand upright to fight back, Arendse is bringing a knife down onto him. He freezes in terror, expecting his life to be ended within that moment, but Sulu dives headfirst into Arendse, causing the man to fall and drop the blade.

Jim kicks the knife away before Arendse can reach for it and stab Sulu who's got him pinned on his back. The man bucks, kicking Sulu off of himself, only to collide into Jim.

The blond grabs him by the shirt and sends a fist into the man's face, kicking him into the ribs for good measure.

Sulu's getting up, having had smacked his head against the wall. Chekov's beside him, helping the Asian to his feet.

"Jim you okay?" Sulu says, strolling over to Arendse and bringing the man up to thrust him against the alleyway wall, "Yeah, I'm okay…" Jim mutters, picking up the knife and stashing it in his boot, "No thanks to you." He adds with a smile, joining Sulu's side.

Chekov on the other hand seems too stunned to move an inch.

"Are you okay?" He asks, noticing the blood trickling from a cut on the back of the Asian's head. "Yeah, I'll live."

Jim nods, looking towards Arendse.

"What are going to do with him?" Chekov finally pipes up, staying behind Jim just in case.

"Let's give him back to Finnegan."

Jim snatches Arendse by the collar of his shirt and drags him back into the bar, "Where's Finnegan?" He demands and Arendse points his finger over to him.

Chekov and Sulu follow eyes widen as they approach the school bully, Jake Finnegan.

Finnegan's slouched over, coolly sliding a bottle between his lips to swish it back, he pauses when he notices the group coming over, "Jimmy boy, what brings you here?" He slurs drunkenly, grinning as he watches Arendse be pushed forward onto the bench, "Just returning your property." Jim smiles smugly, making Finnegan glare at him, "Do you have Instructor Nimoy tomorrow?"

The question catches him off guard, and Jim swallows slowly, "Yeah."

Now it's Finnegan's turn to smile, "I'll see you tomorrow morning then pretty boy."

Jim simply shrugs and turns and leaves. He doesn't need this. Not today. Tonight he, Sulu and Chekov are going to have the time of their lives.

"Sorry about that, guys." Jim apologizes once they've gone back to their original seats, "I think Leonard's right." Sulu sighs, applying a napkin to his head to staunch the bleeding

"Right about what?"

Sulu almost looks at him pitifully, "You attract too much trouble for your own good."

"Sometimes it can't be helped." Jim defends himself, leaning back in the seat, facing Chekov and Sulu who sit side by side, "Actually, you didn't have to fight him." Chekov points out quietly, afraid to speak out against the group leader.

Jim chews his lower lip thoughtfully, "I didn't want him to hurt you Pavel." He says honestly, but the redhead shakes his head, "I can defend myself Jim."

"Seriously doubt that. Need I remind you what happened last time you ran into those guys?"

Chekov flinches, eyes downcast. Of course they all remember that terrible night. It was only yesterday it took place.

"Maybe we should head home?" Sulu suggests, seeing the time. They left around seven, it's not well past nine, but Jim's not having any of it, "We can go somewhere else. Wanna grab some dinner?"

Chekov frowns, "Who has money?"

Jim grins, "On me."

"Well, then it's a deal." Sulu chuckles, throwing out the napkins since his head has stopped bleeding.

They head back outside into the cool night air, starlight blocked by the tall tower lights. San Francisco has grown to be much like New York, only being in the west of course. Jim leads them through, crossing a few busy streets, Jim almost getting hit by a shuttle, Sulu tripping on the curb, and Chekov getting distracted by a stray cat. All in all, it's a normal night.

The blond takes them to the most generic burger place in the whole of the galaxy, McDonald's.

Sulu wrinkles his nose as he enters while Chekov bounces up and down, "Oh I love this place!" The redhead squeals excitedly, and it dawns on them once more, he's only fourteen. Basically a child.

"Alright, I ain't dropping a fortune on this shit, so order only one or two things." Jim grumbles, finding a booth to climb into, "Aren't you gonna order something?" Sulu says, looking over at him.

Jim sighs, putting his head in the crook of his arm, "Just get me some fries, my head is killing me." He mumbles, handing the Asian his wallet.

Sulu nods, patting him on the shoulder before scurrying away with Chekov.

The blond groans, burying his face further. The knock to the face, mixed with the alcohol consumption probably induced this.

A few minutes pass before his head is being pulled up and fries and his wallet appear under his nose, "Thanks."

Chekov squeezes in beside him, happily munching down on his Happy Meal, while Sulu has ordered a McChicken and a chocolate shake.

"Here, I got you this." Chekov says, sliding the plastic cup of water.

Jim nods, offering a soft grin, "Thanks…Sorry this night has turned so shitty. I should've kept my head screwed on."

Sulu purses his lips thoughtfully while the redhead shrugs.

"It's alright. You bought us beer and food, what else could a man ask for?" The Asian replies and they all laugh, "Well, you got me there." Jim shakes his head with a smirk.

He sits upright and takes a sip from his drink, then proceeds to chew on some fries.

Sulu goes on and on about his new classes while Chekov makes his comments here and there. Jim just laughs, smiles, and nods when it's an appropriate, adding a few comical stories of his own to keep the conversation going. The night comes to an end when the Russian boy gets sick and Jim and Sulu are left hauling him out of the stalls and back home.

Jim calls a taxi and they all jam into the backseat.

"Starfleet Academy please." Jim mutters, making sure they're all buckled as the man drives back onto the road.

"Hey Pav, you gonna be okay?" Sulu pushes the boy's shoulder to get his attention, "Yeah, I think I ate my cheeseburger too quickly."

By the time they get back, it's almost one in the morning and campus security is out. But with Jim's secret ninja skills, they manage to dodge all the guards and make it inside Roddenberry dorms.

He walks them to their room, "Hey, thanks for letting me come and I apologize again for the fight." Jim says, scratching the back of his neck.

Chekov lumbers inside the room, leaving Sulu to answer, "Yeah no problem man. And don't worry about it. I'm kinda glad you did it, that guy's an ass."

Jim nods, "Alright, thanks Sulu, night."

"Night Jim."

The blond gets back to his own room in one piece, thankfully having his ID card. Francis is nowhere in sight, but at least the dorm room is still clean, just how he left it. Jim sighs, going into his room and stripping himself of his clothes. He refreshes in the bathroom before going to bed and he can only hope Wednesday morning will be a peaceful one.

 **Disclaimer: I fixed the days, it's not Thursday morning but actually supposed to be Wednesday, my mistake!**

 **Author's Note: Hopefully you guys are still out there waiting! Sorry for taking so long, I've been super busy and have had crazy writer's block for the past couple of weeks. I don't like this chapter as much because I couldn't remember what I originally had planned, because when I started this chapter I got writer's block and couldn't write worth crap. So I apologize once more for my tardiness, but I hoped you enjoyed the chapter and wait for the next one. Live Long and Prosper.**


	10. Chapter 10

**"My biggest fear is that eventually you will start seeing me the way I see myself."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 10**

Leonard trudges along the path wearily, rubbing a hand over his face and blindly walking to his eight am class, Interspecies Ethics. The damn class is required; otherwise he would've dropped it. He holds his PADD in one hand, adjusting it on his hip. Last night was a peaceful one, but his silent Thursday morning was interrupted by an inconsiderate alarm.

Sighing, it's only his third day of school and he feels like months have passed. He needs a vacation already. Though, most of the stress is probably caused by that mischievous blond. Kirk might as well be the devil himself, sly grins, dirty mind, piercing gaze; he needs a restraining order for that kid.

"Hey Bones!"

Speak of the devil.

"Hey." He replies simply, Kirk bumping into his shoulder with much enthusiasm, too much energy in the morning, "You're looking chirper." He adds, taking a side glance over at him, but Kirk has his face elsewhere, following anything shiny, pretty, or glittery.

"How'd last night go?" Leonard prompts, knowing fully well Kirk more than likely got himself tangled into all sorts of trouble.

The blond shrugs innocently, "Well ya'know, nothing too crazy."

"Did you get into a fight?"

"What class are you going to?"

Leonard sighs; the kid's changing the subject, "Oh, inter-crap ethics."

"Oh! We have the same class!" Kirk smiles joyously, though Leonard supposes it's being forced, "What happened to your face?" He asks, noticing the fresh bruise underneath the kid's exuberant blue eye.

"I was born this way."

He rolls his eyes, "Jim."

"Alright fine, I got into a fight last night. Is that what you wanted to hear Bones?" The blond snaps and Leonard exhales, "No, I was hoping I was wrong."

Kirk shrugs, "Well I avoided a fight this morning."

"What do you mean?"

"I had hand-to-hand today, I guess Arendse wasn't having it after last night's brawl, but I refused to talk with him after he tried to taunt me." The blond explains rather proudly.

Leonard pats him on the back, "That's improvement."

Kirk nods slowly, "Though you might wanna check on Sulu, he knocked his head during the fight. Saved my life actually."

"What happened?"

"Arendse brought a knife to a fist fight last night. Nearly killed me, but my man Sulu took him out." Kirk says, smiling as he recalls the scene.

"Shit man, you gotta stop getting into fights." He mutters and Kirk frowns, "I tried Bones, I really did."

The pair head into the main building and down the glossy halls to their next class, 'inter-crap ethics' as Leonard has dubbed it. Professor Kelley teaches the class, he's well known for his brutal honesty and calmness when dealing with zealous students such as Jim Kirk. Leonard has a feeling he's going to like the guy.

Leonard wants to sit near the back, but Kirk, being ever shameless, drags them to the very front and makes him sit beside him. He grumbles the whole way down, but nonetheless joins the kid; he's got nowhere else to go. They settle down, Kirk already getting himself comfy by slouching, kicking back, and fixing his gym shorts.

"Why didn't you change?" He asks, now realizing Kirk's in his athletic attire, "I uhh, I didn't have time to change." Kirk replies, but his answer seems off, "Didn't your class end at seven ish?"

The blond shrugs, "Yeah."

"That's plenty of time."

Kirk blows a breath, "Okay, maybe I got locked out of my dorm."

"Isn't Francis there?"

"He's a heavy sleeper."

Leonard shakes his head disapprovingly, opening his mouth to add a comment, but the teacher's voice rings out before he has the chance, "Quiet down everyone, I'm only saying it once. Nobody said you had to be here, the exit's right up those stairs."

"This is a required class." Kirk remarks, crossing his arms, catching the Professor's eye.

"Yeah? Did I say you had to join Starfleet?" Professor Kelley retorts, matching Kirk's folded arms, "No sir, I came here of my own free will as did you."

Kelley chuckles, "Little smart aleck huh? What's your name cadet?"

The blond straightens himself out, "James, sir."

Kelley's eyes narrow, "Does that happen to be your first or last name, James?"

"Kirk, James Kirk, sir." The kid swallows somewhat nervously.

Leonard frowns, what does Kirk have to fear? Yeah he's a bit of a hothead but he acts like his own name carries poison. As if he utters the name too loudly someone will fall dead. Maybe it's not too far off because several people begin to gasp and murmur. Leonard can't help but feel out of the loop, but it only takes a moment longer for everything to click into place.

"Like George Kirk?"

Damn, the kid's been living beneath that enormous shadow? Desperately trying to make a name for himself but only finding that his father has already done that for him. Being brought up in the leftovers of greatness and admiration and now pushed to become the inspiration himself and much more. An impossible task within itself.

The blond's breath hitches slightly and Leonard resists the urge to grasp his shoulder in that moment, "Yes sir."

Professor Kelley nods, still appearing somewhat skeptical of the blond, "I don't want to hear anything else out of you, understood Cadet Kirk?"

"Yes sir."

Leonard looks at Kirk, but the blond won't meet his eyes, simply sinking down in his chair, sulking rather quietly to himself. He supposes Kirk deserved the bite, but the aftertaste of it is disheartening. Kirk is usually upbeat and lively, seeing him stare blankly off into the surface of the table unnerves him. Then again, the kid is one for drama, and he, Leonard McCoy, is not going to be dragged into any of that shit.

Taking a breath, he brushes off the pity for Kirk and attempts to harden his heart. Something he wishes he could've done so long ago, with his ex-wife Jocelyn. But, even now, he's not quite sure it's working.

Professor Kelley rants and rants about the basics of the class, the new projects they'll be assigned, and field trips they'll be taking. Kirk isn't having any of it. Leonard still has a little pang in his chest, but for the most part, he ignores the blond beside him until the end of class. Which he's glad of, he's not sure if he can handle Kirk sitting beside him utterly emotionless for another hour.

Kirk collects his things, and Leonard begins to lead the way out once class has been dismissed, but Professor Kelley's voice stops them.

"Cadet Kirk, come join me here for a moment."

Leonard glances over, seeing Kirk's annoyed expression, "Go ahead and leave." Kirk tells him before scampering down the steps to come beside the professor.

Instead of leaving, Leonard follows in suit, hovering over Kirk's shoulder.

"Name yourself cadet." Kelley orders, seeing that he has joined them. The blond's frown only grows as he replies, "Cadet McCoy, sir."

"And Cadet McCoy, did I ask you to join me and Cadet Kirk?"

Man, this guy just gets under everybody's nerves.

"No sir, but I thought since it's concerning my friend here, that I might join in, considering the last time you spoke with him you put his name to utter shame over a few little comments."

"Is that right."

"I thought someone of your caliber could at the very least restrain from insulting students. Someone like you shouldn't stoop that low."

Kirk's face glows hot with embarrassment and Leonard realizes he's done more damage than Kelley could've ever done. But the Professor grins, "I like you, you got some wits. But that's not going to stop me from enforcing punishment where it's due."

Leonard takes a step back once Kelley has turned his attention to the problem itself.

"Cadet Kirk, I hope you realize, next time I won't be so merciful. I expect complete silence from you. You will not speak during my class unless directed to. Disrespectful comments may earn you some street credit amongst other students, but it'll only earn you more difficulty in my classroom. Is that clear cadet?"

"Crystal." Kirk responds monotonously.

"Good. Now get out of here. I don't want to see you until next week's class." Kirk nods, grabbing his things and departing.

Leonard goes to follow him, but once more Kelley speaks up, "Cadet McCoy, stay here, I want to talk to you. Cadet Kirk you're dismissed." Kelley adds once he realizes Kirk plans on coming with Leonard wherever he goes.

He gives a nod to Kirk before coming beside Kelley again, watching the blond escape through the open doorway and only wishing he was with him.

"You called yourself his friend, is that correct cadet?"

Leonard nods, "That's correct sir."

"Look, cadet, I'm just giving you warning-can't share details-but make sure you take care of yourself first. You see, Captain Pike personally tracked down Cadet Kirk, but the boy's a hothead, I've already got reports from other teachers and it's only the third day of school. He's not a good influence, I'm just warning you because you seem like a nice guy and I wouldn't want you to get yourself into a situation because of him."

"Don't worry about me sir. I'll handle it." Leonard responds confidently.

Kelley seems pleased, "Good, you're dismissed; I'll see you next week."

Giving a little thanks, Leonard takes to; hoping to meet up with Kirk, the kid couldn't have gotten too far. He climbs up the stairs two at a time, thankfully not dropping anything. As he exits, he immediately looks about, but comes up with nothing.

He's about to give up, strolling aimlessly down the hall when he sees the kid, sitting by himself at the top of the stairs, shoulders narrowed and head slightly bowed in a shyness Leonard has never seen from him. Shy is a word Leonard would never use out loud, but right now, within this moment, Kirk looks so, diffident.

"Hey Jim." Leonard says, announcing his presence as he makes a spot for himself beside the blond, Kirk offers him a glance, "Am I really that hard to deal with?"

His heart skips a beat, he wasn't expecting an actual question from the kid, but here he is, asking away without a single prod.

"You're not the easiest person to get along with."

Kirk laughs, it's a relief to see those gleaming white teeth, somehow they've survived the countless beatings the kid has gotten himself into. There's a slight pause, as the blond gains his breath back and Leonard simply waits for the next move.

"How do you do it?"

Leonard hums thoughtfully, deciding to keep the conversation light, knowing Kirk wouldn't want too real of an answer, the kid just doesn't go there by the looks of it.

"Oh you know just the normal. Kick it a few times; if it comes back it's definitely a puppy."

Kirk rolls his eyes dramatically, pushing Leonard on the shoulder, "I'm not a puppy." He complains, but there's a smile in the edge of his voice, "Yeah and I'm not a bag of bones, seems like neither of us got what we asked for."

The blond sighs, "Sorry about what happened back there, should've kept my mouth shut."

Leonard gazes at him, noticing the furrowed brow and the distant eyes, "Well, I apologize for not realizing sooner."

Kirk shrugs, "It's okay, I like it better when people know me for me instead of my name."

Leonard nods, makes sense to him, he just wishes he would've realized sooner. How did he not know? Everybody has heard of George Kirk. Did he neglect Jim's name? Being the son of Captain Kirk, damn that's one hell of a shadow to live under, no wonder Kirk's scrambling to make a name for himself.

The younger man manages a smirk, humming in thought as he repositions his legs to put his chin on the top of his knees. Leonard's simply cross legged, feet resting on the step below with hands grasped and elbows lying on his knees. His gaze is firmly fixed on the blond before him, the buzz and blurs of the students walking by turning into a nonexistent haze in their small world. There's only them within this moment, and Leonard appreciates that.

He remains there for nearly a minute, staring at Kirk huddled over himself in thought, of what his mind ponders, Leonard will never know. Finally, the blond unwraps himself and comes to notice the fact he's staring at him.

"What class do you have next?" Is the first thing Kirk blurts out, finding the situation overly awkward, but Leonard doesn't mind.

"Prime Directive." He's halfway through replying when Kirk's face lights up with excitement, "I have that class too!"

"God, you're like a teenage girl." Leonard grumbles, waiting for the blond to quiet down, "God you're like a grumpy old man." Kirk mutters back, mocking his southern drawl.

"Jim!" He snaps, gathering to his feet to swat at the blond's head, though Kirk's faster and leaps down the steps, "Come here you little shit!" Leonard shouts after him.

The blond accepts the couple whacks to the head, laughing through it all.

"You didn't get it quite right anyways." Leonard tells him.

"Would you like me to try again?" Kirk offers with a smile, "Only if you're willing to let me kick you in the ass."

"I'll take that as a no."

"We have over an hour. What do you have in mind?" Leonard prompts, gathering up his stuff as Kirk does the same.

The blond pauses, blowing a breath as he thinks, "We should check on Sulu, like I said, he hit his head during the fight."

Leonard nods, "Alright, let's go to their place."

They climb down the rest of the stairs and leave the building behind them, heading out towards the Roddenberry dorms. Leonard can't believe it's only the third day, it feels as if a lifetime has passed since he got into the shuttle, meeting Jim Kirk for the first time in his life. It's only Wednesday, he can do this.

Leonard keeps close to Kirk, using him as a point to drive through the crowds. The kid creates an opening, not minding bumping and grazing into other students, of course that doesn't mean he likes large masses.

"C'mon." Kirk encourages as they reach the dorm, for Leonard has slowed down, "Yeah-yeah." He grumbles following the blond inside and taking to the stairs, Kirk basically leaping up them.

He on the other hand takes his time, meeting Kirk at the door. Grinning, the kid gives a few knocks and listens to the shuffle of feet until the door is swished open and they take in the sight of Chekov, hair ruffled in all sorts of directions and his eyes bright with energy.

"Hey Jim! And Leonard!" The Russian boy chirps, giving each of them a gleaming smile, "What are you here for?" He prompts.

"Checking on Sulu." Kirk explains, glancing briefly at Leonard before pulling his gaze back to Chekov. The blond almost looks nervous, the twinkle in his eyes shimmering.

"He's at medical, said he had a headache." Chekov says and Kirk's eyes fall to the ground, pretending to be interested in the old overworked floor, "Oh, do you think he'd still be there?"

"Yes, he didn't leave too long ago."

Kirk nods, "Alright, thanks Pavel, we're gonna go see him now."

They say their goodbyes and head back out, the blond oddly quiet. Leonard gazes over at him, hoping to see those blue eyes peel off of the ground and back to the destination ahead. He sighs, shaking his head slowly. Of course Kirk would beat himself up over this, always thinks everything's his fault.

"Sulu will be fine." Leonard tells him rather dryly.

Kirk purses his lips, "He'd be fine right now if it weren't for me."

He shrugs, "Perhaps."

They continue along their way, Kirk's guilty face only growing when they reach Sulu, walking towards the exit, prescription drugs in his hand. The blond swallows and gains a smile on his lips to greet the Asian.

"Hey Sulu, how's the noggin?" Kirk says, patting the man on the shoulder and guiding him out.

Leonard follows a few steps to the side.

"Aww, it's all good, just a headache." Sulu replies reassuringly, but it doesn't seem to soothe the blond's worried look, "That's it? Doctor say it was a concussion?"

Sulu shakes his head, "Nope, just bruised. They cleaned the cut and handed me these pills."

"Typical." Leonard says, drawing the attention to himself. He huffs, glaring at Kirk, "He'll live Jim."

They head back to Sulu's dorm and they mess around until ten minutes before their next class. Leonard and Kirk make swift goodbyes and hastily weave in and out between the people, rushing to their next class with a PADD in hand. Leonard nearly dropped his several times, leaving Kirk to shout after him. He barely kept up, but in the end, they arrived right before the doors slammed shut.

The two spare each other an incredulous smile before dashing to the first seats they can find, elbowing their way through the freshmen and once more taking up a table near the front, apparently students don't like sitting near the professor.

The teacher is of a stocky figure, grizzly brown beard and spiked brunette hair in an almost childish fashion. He lounges in his chair with such laziness the students can't help but mimic his laidback behavior. His chocolate eyes scan over the crowd before him, not letting his gaze settle upon a single student for longer than a mere second.

Sitting silently, the students hold their breath in unison, still uncertain of what to expect from the man before them.

Finally, the professor stands, casting down his uniform jacket to reveal his tattooed biceps, though most is hidden behind the gray sleeves of his undershirt.

"Hello students, I'm your Prime Directive teacher, Mister Jones."

If there were crickets in the room, one would be able to hear them. Mister Jones says his name as if it holds such a strong meaning, as if a storm is built up behind it. He's only met with silence. Kirk opens to his mouth to make a comment, but Leonard, remembering what happened last time the idiot mouthed off, elbows him in the side. The blond releases a muffled grunt and he realizes he probably just jabbed the man in his bruised ribs, but nonetheless it stops him from speaking.

"Most of you are probably sitting here, bored out of your mind, thinking: 'screw the prime directive', but I say 'screw you'. Can any of you even tell me what Starfleet's golden rule is?" Mister Jones continues, standing hands on hips in front of his class.

A few hands raise and he calls upon one of them.

It's a girl, "Prohibition of Starfleet officers interfering with outside cultures or civilizations on foreign planets."

Mister Jones hummpfs, "Did you just read the textbook definition or was that in your head cadet?"

"It-it was in my head sir." The girl replies rather nervously, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

The professor stares blankly, waiting for any other attempts, but once none have come, a satisfied grin slides onto his face and he gives a chuckle, "Looks like we got a lot to learn."

Leonard kicks back for the rest of class and only groans when he realizes he has to get several books from the library, Kirk just seems excited. Once class is dismissed, the pair leave gladly, Kirk quite relieved he didn't get called on during class, or after for that matter.

They walk side by side towards the lunchroom, after finding Kirk's ID card in his room, seeming to be in their own little world with the blond actually smiling. Kirk finds them some seats, near the edge of the cafeteria, holding two plates of food since Leonard has gone to grab them some drinks. Once settled, Leonard feels his stomach churn, rumbling with hunger.

He glances up, meeting Kirk's eyes, and for once, he doesn't see him as Kirk, but Jim, Jim the blond kid that's his friend, and maybe will even become like a brother to him.

"You're staring." Jim points out, scooting Leonard's plate over while simultaneously shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. He rolls his eyes, "Sorry, just thinking." He explains, digging into his plateful of salad.

"Do you always eat healthy?"

"No."

Jim frowns, "Are you on a diet-because you're not fat."

Leonard sighs, "Thanks Jim, for that."

The blond nods, "No problem Bones."

He can't help but groan at the utterance of his dreadful nickname. Why must the blond punish him further with his ridicules name?

"Why bones?" He asks, forking some carrots and mushrooms to go with his lettuce. Jim hums, shrugging slightly as he thinks, "It suits you."

Leonard glares at him, "There's gotta be more than that kid."

"Did you watch TV as a kid?"

He scowls, confused by the turn of subject, but nonetheless goes with it, "Yeah, why?"

"Well in the superhero ones, there's always a sidekick right? Like Batman and Robin."

"Are you comparing me to Robin?" He grumbles, crossing his arms, Jim smirks, "No, I'm just saying you're my sidekick."

"But that'd make you a superhero, and I'm pretty sure you haven't saved anything but your own ass kid-sorry, that doesn't make you any more hero than me."

Jim purses his lips, pondering that statement before responding, "One day, I want to be a hero… like my father."

Once more, all Leonard can see is the little blond boy, lost in a world far too violent for his innocent mind. He then decides being Bones is the least he can do, promising that one day, he'll make Jim Kirk a hero, a super one while he's at it.

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, yes I'm still alive. Sorry for the space between posts, but I'm pretty sure I warned you guys when school started back up I'd be busy, and I definitely am! I do want to apologize for Chapter 9, it was sloppy and poorly written, I feel like they slipped out of character and the writing overall was rather bland, so sorry for that, but I hope this chapter makes up for it. I have some plans for Bones Whump, I just have to finish off their first week of school and it'll come up (at least that's whats planned), so hang in there. So, I hope you've enjoyed so far and stay tuned for the next chapter. Live Long and Prosper.**


	11. Chapter 11

**"The greatest act of courage is to be and own all that you are without apology, without excuses and without any masks to cover the truth of who you truly are."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 11**

Thursday, August 23rd, 2255, and Jim Kirk is still finding himself caught up in the same thing. Girls. They're everywhere. Outside his dorm, they're there. In his classes, they're there. In the library, yup, cafeteria, most definitely. Even off campus they're there. So who can blame him when he finds himself drooling over the campus dame?

Her name, well, unfortunately it's Hermione Rand, Professor Rand's daughter. Despite her mother's obvious old features, and obscure face structure, Hermione inherited only the beautiful traits. She has fair smooth skin, glossy gray eyes and flowing blonde hair, that tumbles over her strong shoulders. Her cheek bones and jaw line are sexier than his own if he does say so himself. The smile makes him stumble in stride and her wink has him hooked around her finger.

She's just a girl.

He finds himself saying, always casting glances her way, desperate to catch her smile, pearly white teeth hidden beneath plush pink lips.

Much to his disappointment, she's out of his league. Actually, she's not even in the same sport. Though, she does seem to enjoy toying with him, nervously smiling his way during Xenobiology, his nine am class.

Jim decides that's his que to come beside her, so he does, right in the middle of class, ducking under students to hide himself from Professor Mondy, to keep the older gentleman from spotting him. Hermione suppresses a giggle in her sleeves and stares down at him as he crawls underneath her desk, thankful that the desk has a front cover to block him from view.

Shaking her head, the luxurious blonde bends down, her grin utterly elegant, making him fixate his eyes on the edges of her lips and surprisingly, not all embarrassed by the whole situation. He did in fact, just army-crawl to her and dived beneath her table.

"Who might you be?" She whispers, crossing her arms as she puts her elbows on her knees, gazing softly at him.

"James, Madame."

"And James, do you take me for royalty?" Hermione inquires rather innocently, only sparing the Xenobiology teacher a glance.

"Oh no Madame, I just thought that a beauty such as yourself deserves some respect for being so easy on the eyes. This place is an eye-sore, but you Madame are a diamond amongst this dust." Jim insists with a smile of his own, listening to her giggle quietly, "Well, Sir James, may I ask why you are under my desk?"

"That's classified Madame." Jim replies with all seriousness, Hermione smiles and shakes her head.

"Well Sir James, you don't know my name, and surely you must ask because I cannot bear to be called 'Madame' for the rest of the time being."

He nods knowingly, "Then, what is your name my fair lady?"

"Hermione."

"Well Hermione, I hope we meet again, with apology I must depart, before Professor Mondy discovers me."

"You must leave swiftly, for he's already staring." Hermione informs him and sits herself upright, ignoring Jim as he peeks out to make sure the coast is clear before crawling back to his original seat.

Even though he won't admit it, his heart beats a little faster for the rest of the class. At the end, he only earns another textbook to the collection. What class doesn't require one?

Professor Mondy wastes half of class threatening his students. He doesn't accept late work, no retakes on quizzes or tests, and bookwork will be graded as well as notes. Three tardies one has to stay after class, four gets a student an absent, and five means that person is getting sent to the office. Damn, strict or what?

The class is dismissed, Jim couldn't be happier. It's ten fifty-one. His next class is in nine minutes, but Hermione, in all her beauty catches his gaze. She flips her hair over her shoulder, rebelliously breaking the rules, for people with long hair were to wear it up in a ponytail or bun. Though, since her mother is Professor Rand, she can get away with breaking a few lousy rules right?

Sighing, Jim shakes his head, he has to get to Forensic Psychology, there's no point in drooling over a girl only to be late for his next class. He'll just have to hit her up later. Unfortunately for him, by the time he's out the door, finally escaping the masses, he has less than five minutes, and his class is upstairs at the opposite side of where he's currently at, according to his PADD. Of course he has no idea where to go, without his PADD he'd be lost.

Jim takes to the stairs, weaving between people, occasionally dipping his head to some pretty women before continuing in his haste.

Then, he runs into him.

"Jim?"

"Francis?"

They stare at each other rather blankly, both coming to the realization they're heading for the same door.

"You're taking-"

"Yeah, Forensic Psychology." Francis confirms, and they glare at each other for a moment longer, both contemplating whether or not they should sit next to each other.

"Do you-"

"Sure." Francis cuts in, seeming to read his mind.

Jim nods slowly and lets Francis lead him inside, taking to the back rows of the room. He almost complains but he decides better. Francis would probably lock him out of the dorm again. Yesterday he hadn't been entirely truthful with McCoy. Yes, he got locked out of his dorm and Francis was inside, but the man was most definitely not sleeping. Jim had accidently woken the man up that morning when getting ready for hand-to-hand. Francis wasn't completely coherent that morning and might've thrown a few cusses and fists his way, but Jim was able to dodge and run, and upon returning, Francis had locked him out.

He thinks about it, he probably deserved it, should've been quieter and respected Francis' sleep. Though he knows a certain doctor would beg to differ. McCoy always makes him the victim, and he feels slightly insecure about that. He's not a child, not anymore. He can handle himself. But there's something different about the man, he pushes and McCoy pulls, he doesn't seem to go away, he's just always there.

Maybe that's what Jim needs though, something firm, unmovable in his disaster of a life. McCoy, he can be his anchor, his life raft, all he has to do is let him in. But Jim's not sure if he's ready for that, ready to expose himself, to be truly and utterly plainly, himself.

"Hey, you awake?" Francis pinches his bicep, making him yank his arm away, eyes searching for the source of the voice, only to meet Francis' stare, "You zoned out." He explains dryly, shrugging and turning himself back to the professor.

Jim huffs and sinks down in his chair, rubbing his face tiredly and trying to focus in on the professor's voice.

Professor Nichols is her name, short in figure, but young and beautiful. She's of black ethnicity, her skin rich brown with exuberant black eyes and long strands of curly hair pulled into a professional bun. She speaks loud and clearly, informing her rather small class of students the upcoming assignments, the expectations, and field experiments they will be conducting.

He has to admit it, he's entirely consumed in the ideas of psychology, and his attention is purely devoted to listening to every word Professor Nichol says, his mind hanging on the edge of her words, the sound of her voice the only thing reaching his ears.

When class is over, he leaves without a word, ditching Francis within the crowds of students and practically sprinting all the way to the library, only two books on mind.

He checks out both his Forensic Psychology textbook and Xenobiology. Now, he has textbooks for Astrophysics, Starfleet History, Prime Directive, Xenobiology and Forensic Psychology. Why the hell does Prime Directive need a whole damn textbook? A question he'll never be able to answer.

With his two new books in hand and his PADD balancing on top of it all, he skips all the way back to his dorm, finding it rather empty. Francis probably went out for lunch. Despite the fact it's almost one in the afternoon, Jim finds himself at loss for appetite. Instead, he fills up his water bottle and divulges himself into the first chapter of his history book. He creates a new file for his notes on his PADD, lying on the floor of his room, shirtless with a blanket draped over his shoulders. His door is wide open and he's pretty sure he left the front door unlocked, though with Francis he doesn't want to accidently lock him out. No need to get beat up today.

He spends the next two hours reading contently, legs kicking and swinging in the air. Jim hums a soft tune to himself, finishing up the last page and saving his notes. Once done, he sighs, bringing himself to sit upright and blink owlishly at the time, realizing he hasn't eaten since this morning. Though he supposes he could just wait for dinner by now. But the food comes to him.

"Jim?" His name is called out somewhat cautiously.

Frowning, Jim gets up and peers outside his room, finding McCoy with Chinese takeout in his hands. The sight is almost ridicules. McCoy looks completely worn, jacket open with his undershirt untucked and hanging out. His hair is splayed out across his face, looking as if the wind has toiled it over.

"Bones?" He says questioningly, seeing that it's just him, no Sulu, no Chekov.

"You didn't come to lunch." McCoy explains, inviting himself into Jim's room, but he doesn't mind, he likes the southerner's assertiveness, on most days that is; sometimes it can be a real pain in the ass.

"Forgot." Jim mumbles, slipping on a shirt and reorganizing his textbooks to make room for the southerner.

"Oh, you have Forensic Psychology?" McCoy says, intrigued at the notice of his textbook, "Yeah, had it today." The blond replies, nodding his thanks when McCoy hands over his share of food and they get comfy upon the floor.

"At eleven?"

Jim scowls, "Yeah how'd you-"

"I have the same class. Where'd you sit?"

"The back."

"With-"

"By Francis."

"Hmm."

"Don't approve?"

McCoy shrugs, "The man doesn't necessarily like you."

"You just described every person on this campus."

"Not me-"

"You're the exception."

"What were you doing?" McCoy changes the subject, diving into his much appreciated meal.

"Starfleet History. My only homework."

"Must be nice, my Klingon Physiology gave me some readings as well as my med class."

Jim hums, "Nice."

"Yeah, nice…who's the girl?"

The blond glances up, pausing, "What?"

"Jim, there's already rumors spreading, something about George Kirk's mighty son doing some recon work during Xenobiology."

His mouth falls agape, "How'd you know-"

"Oh c'mon, I know Hermione Rand, everybody does. She's hot, smart, great personality. She's-"

"The campus dame." They say in unison and Jim laughs.

"Sounds like you two met."

"Oh no, just everybody talks about her. She's the hotty of the school."

Jim nods smiling, "Believe me, she is."

"How about the Orion girl?"

"Gaila? She's out of my league."

"So is this girl."

He glares at McCoy, "Whatever, I can't get near the Orion chick, she's sailing a different boat, but Hermione, I can get to her."

"She's a Rand."

"Is that supposed to stop me?"

"No, but Professor Rand might. You'll get on her bad side."

"Too late for that shit."

"Jim." McCoy says warningly, but Jim shakes his head, "Doesn't matter Bones, I'll do what I want."

"That's true."

There's a pause, the air full of them chewing, munching down on their Chinese food.

"I'm getting an internship."

Jim looks up, "Where?"

"Medbay."

"When are you starting?"

"Saturday."

He groans rather dramatically, "I hate that place."

"It's not that bad."

"You haven't been to many hospitals have you?"

"Jim, I'm a doctor."

"Yeah and I'm an alcoholic."

"You get drunk often?"

"Not often."

"Then you're not an alcoholic."

"Alright, ex-alcoholic. Heavy drinker when I was younger."

"That true?"

"Very."

McCoy sighs, "I left behind a family."

"Never had one, what's it like?"

Even though Jim says it lightly in a joking matter, there's more truth to it then either one of them is willing to admit.

"It's shit. Got a divorce and ran like hell."

"She's that bad?"

"No, not at first. Most of it was for my little girl."

Jim blinks at him, blue eyes staring, "How old?"

He can't believe McCoy has a little girl, growing up without a father. Hopefully it's not as messed up as his situation.

"She's turning six."

"Congratulations to you."

"I really need some beer for this shit."

"I feel you."

"So, I'm here because of my wife, what about you?"

Jim laughs, "Oh, got dared by a certain captain."

"What about before that?"

"Iowa bars."

"Sounds like the life to be living."

"It was."

"What's your girl's name?"

"Joanna."

Jim smirks, "I like it."

"That's why I picked it."

"Because I like it?" Jim asks with an incredulous eyebrow raise that would shame a vulcan, if they knew a vulcan.

"Because I like it, moron."

"Oh."

"So, wife was a bitch?"

"Liked another guy."

"Oh, wanna talk?"

"Not really, not drunk." McCoy chuckles, taking a moment to scratch at his brunette hair, draping over brown piercing eyes, it's shaggy and childish, but Jim thinks it suits him, makes the southerner look younger.

"Same."

"Jim?"

There's a change in tone. Jim meets McCoy's eyes, setting down the bowl and fork, taking a breath before prompting, "Yeah?"

"We're friends, right?"

Jim's heart stops. He's never had a friend before. He's not even sure if 'friend' is in his vocabulary. What's a friend? What do friends do? Are they considered friends?

His voice catches in his throat and he's left staring at McCoy until he's able to clear it and speak up.

"Ye-yeah. You can call it that."

"What do you call it?"

"Favorite human."

McCoy rolls his eyes, and Jim pauses. They are friends. McCoy is no longer some stranger, its him, its Bones, and for some weird, slightly odd buzzing feeling, he just knows that Bones will be there for him, no matter what. So, from then on out, his favorite human, sitting before him, will now be dubbed as Bones, permanently, until further notice.

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, thanks for all the feedback, I'm loving it! To those of you who are shy, don't worry, I don't bite and I try to reply to all the pms/reviews I get, just sometimes I'm busy so it takes a couple days, but other than that I'm usually pretty quick. So, did you guys like it? Were Jim and Bones off character at all? I think I got them down pretty well, and like I've said and heard before, they write their own dialogue. It's just so natural, I love it! I know this chapter is a bit short, but it's good right? Well, I'll let you guys decide, until next time. Live Long and Prosper.**


	12. Chapter 12

**"Friendship is so weird…you just pick a human you've met and you're like 'yep, I like this one' and you just do stuff with them."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 12**

He adjusts himself on the grass, though there's a heavy body splayed out faced down in the ground, below his knees, keeping him pinned. The breaths fill the night air and the sky is completely clear, the reason why they're out here in the first place. A pack of beers had accompanied them the whole way there, they're empty now but he only had one bottle of six. The five other bottles had been consumed by who other than Jim Kirk, currently passed out on Leonard's legs.

The kid had looked worn out by the time he brought him some Chinese food, so this is the least he can do to let the blond settle down and get some rest. It's well past eleven at night, and curfew is coming around the corner, soon the campus will be crawling with security, but just to have Jim sleep those few extra minutes are worth the risk.

Sighing, he leans back, his arms supporting him, head tilted back to view the wonders above. Jim had insisted, very drunkenly, that if he were to marry, he'd marry the stars. Leonard had informed him strictly that marrying the stars isn't possible. The blond had begun to grumble and complain until Leonard gave in and told Jim he'd let him marry the stars. Right before the blond fell asleep, he asked Leonard to be his best man, and as he went to reply with the obvious answer 'yes', Jim fell over asleep, leading to the current situation.

Leonard continues gazing upwards, feeling Jim shift on top of him and muttering an incoherent string of words slurred with a few different languages, where Jim learned to speak so many different languages is beyond him.

Hanging on for one last moment, he peels his gaze away from Jim's future wife and blinks down at the blond, the urge to shake the brat awake fading away. He's just so, calm. It's quite a sight to see; Jim has brought his legs up, his left arm hooked underneath Leonard's knee while his other hand grasps the front of his shin. Despite the fact he's wearing pants, Leonard can still feel Jim's hot breath blowing down his leg, sending a shiver up his spine.

He takes the scene in for one last minute before gripping Jim's shoulder and gently jostling him, until bright blue eyes peel open, seeming rather sober, until that stupid grin stretches on his lips.

"Hey." Jim says, his voice uncharacteristically soft and soothing, while sitting up and leaning towards Leonard, his face becoming inches away.

Leonard's heart begins to thump faster and faster as Jim's nose his centimeters from his own.

What's happening?

"Jim, you're drunk." He tells the blond, placing a hand on the kid's chest to stop his approach.

Jim frowns, glaring down at Leonard's arm before taking his hand within his own, eyes sparkling with devilish delight. Before Jim can do anything further, he snags away, standing up abruptly, glaring at the blond in question.

The blond only seems confused by the sudden change in mood, "What's wrong?"

"Jim are you hitting on me?"

The kid doubles over in laughter, making Leonard roll his eyes; the night was going just fine until Jim decides to wake up in the mood for sex. Apparently when he's drunk, he doesn't take gender into account, or the fact that Leonard is his friend and very straight friend at that.

"No-no Bonesy, I'd never do that. That would, that would be funny if I did, don't worry I'd make love to a tree before you." Jim giggles, picking up an empty beer bottle and desperately trying to drain the imaginary liquid down his throat.

"I'm glad you think I'm less desirable than a tree. Now please Jim, lemme take you home before curfew." Leonard mutters, snatching all the bottles, including the one Jim currently holds and throws them away into a nearby trashcan before returning to Jim's side.

"I don't have a curfew. What the hell is a curfew any who?"

"Your bedtime." Leonard sighs, pulling Jim up to his feet with one smooth movement.

The blond stumbles forward but Leonard grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks him close, slinging Jim's arm over his shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"I don't have a bedtime, I'm twenty-two years old, I go to bed whenever I feel like going to bed."

"I'm sure you do kid." Leonard reassures, steering him towards the Roddenberry dorms, but stops halfway there.

What if Francis doesn't look out for him? Lets him drown in his own vomit?

Internally groaning, Leonard turns around and heads for his own dorm room, "What class do you have in the morning?"

"Hand-to-ass."

"Hand-to-hand you mean." He corrects, but Jim blurts a laugh, "No, hand-to-ass." The blond insists and grabs at Leonard's rear.

He jumps, snatching Jim by the hair, "Get your hand off my ass."

"Just exploring." Jim replies so innocently, Leonard could've thought it was all an accident, but Jim's sly grin says otherwise.

"Who knew you'd be like this when drunk? Seriously, I'm gathering a whole shitload of blackmail on you." Leonard laughs and Jim glares at him, "Bones, you're white, how possibly can you get black mail?"

"Jim." He growls, shaking his head.

"That's my name, don't use my name."

"Jim-"

"Bones don't use my name!"

"Okay-okay. Jeez, shut up. You're gonna get us caught."

"Caught by who?" Jim mumbles smirking dumbly up at him.

"Security."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Yes."

"Uh huh."

Leonard sets him off to the side, opening the door to Barrett dorms before dragging him inside.

"Be gentle." Jim grins, licking his lips dramatically.

"Tone down the sexy shit Jim, neither of us are gay."

"Won't know until we try."

"We're not trying anything, and that's final." He grounds out, taking Jim up the stairs and to his room, 389e.

The blond mutters the whole way there, explaining rather explicitly how he'd make love to him, but the conversation takes a sharp turn when Leonard reminds him that he said he'd 'make love to a tree' first.

Jim purses his lips, "Oh, makes since, you're not very attractive."

"And a tree is?"

Even though he doesn't want Jim to continue further into his drunken gay fantasies, he can't help but feel slightly annoyed at the fact Jim doesn't think he's attractive. But he then reminds himself, Jim's drunk, and in reality he probably never thinks about this stuff. Hopefully, otherwise he might need a new friend.

"I like tall people."

"What?"

"Trees are tall, and I like tall people."

"Do you?" He prompts, opening his door with his ID card and guiding Jim inside, finding the couch the most preferable place to deposit him.

"Or, do I like short people? I don't know, Bones help me!"

"You like people about my height." Leonard replies, helping Jim sit down on the couch before getting some of the kid's clothes off.

"Huh, makes since, you have little arms." Jim states with complete seriousness, reaching down to untie his boots.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He exclaims, slapping Jim's clumsy hands away and yanking the kid's boots off for him.

Somehow drunk Jim is worse than sober Jim.

"And little hands… Oh my god Bones."

"Hmm?" Leonard hums, beginning to peel off Jim's jacket.

"You're tyrannosaurus rex!"

"What the fu-"

"Oww!"

"Sorry-sorry!" Leonard apologizes quickly, seeing that he accidentally pulled the kid's arm up to high, aggravating one of the many bruises along his ribcage.

"That hurt me." Jim whines, arms now wrapped protectively around his ribs.

Leonard shakes his head and forces Jim's left arm out to pull the other sleeve off, "I said sorry."

Jim hums thoughtfully.

"What?" He prompts, piling up Jim's things off to the corner before scurrying off to the extra room to retrieve a pillow and blanket. Thank god for no roommate.

"This isn't my room."

"No, you're staying at my place tonight."

"I'm tired."

"I know kid, hold on." Leonard replies, coming back to Jim, placing the pillow at the end of the couch, "Alright, lie down now." He gently pushes the blond onto his back and tosses the thin blanket over him.

"Night Bonesy." Jim snuggles up in the blanket, eyes falling shut, proving truly how exhausted the kid must be.

"Night Jim." Leonard says softly, making sure Jim is asleep before heading into his own room.

He changes into a t-shirt and sweats, setting an alarm for five, knowing that Jim's combat class ends at seven, but he's not quite sure when it starts. Leonard skips the shower, deciding to take one in the morning.

Sighing, he snatches a blanket and PADD before dragging a kitchen chair over towards the couch. He sits down, watching Jim's chest rise and fall steadily, the kid's right hand grasping the pillow tightly, brow creased in slight worry, of what he dreams of, Leonard can only wonder. With the PADD resting on the floor, Leonard lets the darkness consume, taking a hold of his mind and pulling him under.

The alarm goes off. It's five in the morning.

Leonard bursts to life, quickly turning it off, only to groan and slump back down in the chair, finding that his back has become quite achy.

"What the hell…" Jim moans from the couch, slowly coming to, but once he realizes he's not in his own room, he bolts upright and glances around.

"Jim." Leonard says, getting the younger man's attention.

Jim clearly relaxes once his mind settles and he comprehends the fact he's in Leonard's room, "What happened last night?" The blond mumbles, shaking his head to remove any wild thoughts.

"Uhh, you got pretty drunk last night."

"Did not." Jim blows off with a look of doubt.

"You said you wanted to marry the stars." He deadpans and Jim frowns at him, still not thinking it's that bad, so he adds flatly, "And you grabbed my ass and told me how you would have sex with me."

Jim's face drains of all color, "Oh, I'm sorry Bones, I didn't-you know I didn't-you know mean that-it was-"

"It's alright kid, I know, you were drunk last night. Everybody does stupid shit when they're drunk." Leonard replies and Jim seems to become more comfortable, appreciating the fact Leonard has saved him from giving one of the most awkward speeches of his life.

"Hungry much?" Leonard asks as he stands up, "Starving, what time is it?"

"About five."

"Shit."

"Hmm?"

"My class starts at five."

"How the hell do you get up for a five am class?"

"Don't sleep in."

"Well you're not going anywhere, doctor's orders." Leonard decides firmly, strolling off to the kitchen to replicate them some food, "Bones, that's not how it works."

"It is if I go complain to the school board, tell them that you're not getting an adequate amount of sleep."

"Don't make a fuss Bones, I gotta go." Jim replies, getting up and stretching.

"First of all, you have to go all the way back to your dorms, get dressed-and that's assuming you're not locked out of your room-then you gotta run all the way to class. Screw it Jim, there'd only be about an hour left or less."

Jim sighs, dropping back down into the cushions of the couch. The kid looks mentally exhausted.

Leonard brings over a dish of eggs and a glass of water, sitting beside Jim, concern welling within his eyes.

"Here, eat something kid."

The blond looks up from his feet, taking the food and offering a small smile, "Thanks Bones."

"Yeah, no problem kid." Leonard replies, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing himself a plate of eggs.

"So, where you heading off to today?"

"Xenobiology." He responds, settling beside Jim once more.

Jim nods slowly, "Professor Mondy is alright."

"What about you?"

"Uhh, besides my hand-to-hand, I have Xenolinguistics in the afternoon."

"Yeah, about that…" Leonard chuckles, remembering all the languages Jim had muttered in his sleep, "How many languages do you know?"

"Just a few." Jim replies with a smirk at the edge of his lips, pausing briefly to shove more food into his mouth, "So, what time is this class of yours?"

"At nine I believe."

"Good, we got a little less than four hours."

"To do what?"

"To watch a movie of course."

"Jim, we can't access any movies from here."

"That's true, but with your PADD I might be able to pull up some of those old movies."

Leonard hums, "What are you thinking?"

"Caught between Gladiator and Fight Club."

He frowns, confused, "What?"

"They're old movies, like hundreds of years old!" Jim exclaims, waving his arms around wildly, managing to fling some eggs to the ground.

Leonard looks down at the mess, sighing, "We really need to teach you some table manners."

"I try." The blond exasperates, sounding rather innocent as he glances down longingly at the wasted food, "But we can't all be perfect."

"Amen to that."

"So, Bones, pick a movie."

"Oh I don't know. What's the options again?"

"Gladiator or Fight Club, both of them are good."

Leonard shakes his head, "Of course you've seen them."

"Nothing better to do."

"Alright, uhh Gladiator, that sounds decent enough, Fight Club sounds like it's full of bad ideas for your head."

Jim grins, "Yeah, probably."

Leonard cleans the floor and throws out their plates and cups while Jim turns on the movie, saying that he isn't 'hacking' but rule bending, apparently if he doesn't get caught it's not breaking any campus rules. He doesn't care much; he's actually looking forward to hanging out with Jim.

With the movie on, they settle on the couch, Leonard with a bag of popcorn in hand, propped back against the armrest. In effort to reach the food, Jim is half laying on top of the southerner, arm outstretched and slowly shoving handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. He doesn't mind, they're too wrapped up in their movie to realize their hilariously awkward position on the couch.

Jim mouths the lines, snickers before the funny parts, and waits in anticipation for his favorite scenes. Leonard can only let himself be absorbed into the movie, cringing at the gruesome fights and heart pounding near the end. When the movie comes to the credits, Jim and Leonard exchange a look and begin to laugh.

Sighing, the blond gathers himself off of Leonard, licking his fingers clean.

"Did you like the movie?"

"Leonard nods with a smile, "We'll have to watch your other movie sometime as well."

"Deal."

Only forty minutes left, Leonard takes a quick shower, when he comes out; Jim's asleep on the couch, curled up. He allows a small smile to play his lips; he drapes a blanket over his friend and picks up his PADD and ID card for class. Leonard leaves after watching the blond sleep for ten minutes or so. Xenobiology, with Professor Mondy, should be exciting; though he's slightly disappointed he didn't get the class with Jim.

Luckily, upon arriving, he recognizes Chekov, looking utterly lost within the bustle of students, locating friends and chairs to sit in.

"Pavel!" He calls out, brushing by a few people to get to the Russian boy.

The boy's face lights up like a child on Christmas day.

"Hello Leonard!" Chekov cheers back, happily skipping over to meet him, "See anywhere to sit?" The redhead prompts.

Leonard scans the room, "We'll sit over there."

He leads Chekov through the cluster and finds a table to the far right, at ease since he at least has Chekov with him.

Professor Mondy makes his introduction, it's rather blunt, stating plainly 'if you screw off, you will fail, if you don't do the work, you will fail, if you annoy me, you might fail', students chuckled but the professor reassured them he wasn't joking. He then went on about the class and aspects of it, the procedures and the class adequate. How the professor managed to suck away almost two hours of his life is unbelievable, it's probably the constant stutters and 'uhhs' thrown in between pauses that let the class drag on.

Afterwards, he and Chekov and get the required textbook before parting ways. Leonard treks back to his dorm, Xenobiology his only class for today, which he's glad, he's rather tired and could use a nap.

He almost forgot he left Jim Kirk in his room. Almost.

Upon returning, he's goes through his normal routine of putting his belongings away and kicking his shoes off, only to come oh so very close of sitting on top of a certain blond, still cuddled within the warmth of the blanket, humming gently in his sleep.

The kid hasn't moved since he left.

He sighs, shaking his head, allowing the blond this time to rest, he probably needs it, there's no one who can get up for a five am class and still function properly. Leonard straightens up the room, all the awhile making sure he doesn't disturb the blond from his much needed sleep.

It's not until noon Jim finally comes around, clearly disoriented by the change in time. Though he slaps on that stupid grin the moment he spots Leonard coming beside him.

"Feeling better?"

Jim huffs, "Who said I wasn't feeling good?"

Leonard gives him a look.

"Yeah, I feel better." He decides carefully, after giving his head a scratch.

"Here, I have some extra clothes, why don't you take a shower and I'll have some lunch ready." Leonard offers kindly, causing Jim to squint at him, face completely lost.

"Why?" The blond's voice nearly cracks, and Leonard realizes it's hitting Jim pretty hard. Has the kid never been showed appreciation or some form of kindness ever in his life? Didn't he know what it was like to have a friend who cares about him?

"Because I'm a grumpy old man who has a heavy southern drawl." Leonard jokes, and the little look Jim gives him, the one full of wonder and innocence, causes him to swallow and admit softly, "…And I care about you Jim. We're friends."

Jim nods, seeming satisfied with the answer, "Alright, yeah, sounds good. Thanks Bones." The blond takes the clothes and gets up.

"Yeah-yeah, just go take a shower, you're starting to smell." Leonard replies as Jim heads for the door of the bathroom, "Oh shut up." He grumbles and lets the door slide shut behind him.

Leonard laughs to himself before getting up, pondering a meal. The food replicator only allows uses for water, or breakfast meals from four to eleven am, to stop people from abusing their power. So, he heads off to the cafeteria with a lunchbox in hand. He orders two meals off of his own ID card and places the replicated food in his bag before heading back out.

"Leonard!"

He turns sharply around, met by Sulu and Chekov rushing over to him, plates in hand, "Where are you going?" Sulu asks.

"Uhh, Jim's at my room, so I was just bringing some food over, wanna come?"

The two nod eagerly.

"Alright, let's go."

The three of them make it to Barrett dorms without dropping any food, even up the stairs and through the front door. As Leonard goes to open the door, it slides away, revealing Jim, wearing his red pants and Leonard's t-shirt which hangs loosely off his shoulders.

"Hey guys!" He says with a smirk, welcoming them all inside as if it were his own room.

"Make sure you give me the shirt back." Leonard mutters, noticing that the blond's hair is still wet and plastered to his head in some places and the top is rather messy, but not in his normal fashion.

"Will do." Jim replies, licking lips slowly, seeing that Chekov and Sulu have platefuls of food.

"Lunch is served." Leonard announces, giving Jim his portion of food.

The kid's face screws over, "It's salad!"

"Yes, it is, now eat up."

"Where's the meat?" He complains, but Leonard fixes him with a glare.

"Okay-okay, I'm eating!"

Two o'clock nears all too quickly, and before the group knows it, Jim's packing bags and sprinting off to his dorm to get his things for his Xenolinguistics class. It's then that Sulu and Chekov excuse themselves, Sulu saying something about making sure Jim hadn't tripped and knocked himself out on the way to the Roddenberry dorms.

Leonard is glad for the tranquility that now hangs over his dorm room, letting the sound of his exhale fill it. He gathers his work, getting a head start; tomorrow he has the alpha medical shift, from eight am to four pm.

Sitting back, Leonard snatches his Klingon Physiology textbook and flips through the pages, if he wants to survive through this, there has to be some simple rules. Firstly, he'll have to get his work done ASAP to make time for other things. Secondly, with that extra time he's saved, he has to spend it sleeping. And thirdly, make sure Jim Kirk stays afloat. It's been one week; god only knows what several years of Starfleet Academy will bring at their feet.

 **Author's Note: There you have it folks, their first week of school finished, man that took only twelve chapters, how am I ever supposed to finish all three years of the academy? This might take a very long time; hopefully you guys stick around though ;) Also, I'd like to thank Anonymous and LOORIOVER50 (since I can't reply directly) for the reviews you guys are awesome! Thanks to all of you who have followed this far, and believe me when I say this, there's a lot more to come! I'm so excited to get into some deep Jim &Bones, it's about to get real. So, hopefully you've enjoyed this far, and stay tuned for the next chapter. Live Long and Prosper. **


	13. Chapter 13

**"True friendship isn't about only being there when it's convenient, it's about being there when it's not."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 13**

He groans. God it's only Wednesday, October 24th, second month of school. And to say that the past couple of weeks have been exciting would be an overstatement. The month of September was full of drinking and bar fights, and the last of which, Bones made him promise he'd stop. And he's stopped.

Jim hasn't raised a fist against someone since he made that promise on a bloody Sunday night. Also for the entirety of October so far, he can admit proudly that he's been quite sober.

Lunch has come to a close, he missed it, and not purposely. He and Bones weren't released from their Prime Directive class with Professor Jones until almost one o'clock. After that he departed from his friend and went straight to his dorm room, preparing for his third Book Club meeting at six. Each week on Wednesday nights, he hosts the club, he'd started it out of spite of Captain Pike, but it's actually grown on him. They discuss anywhere from the far fetches of fantasy to their ordinary history textbook. To be surrounded by other nerds like himself, well that just gives him a fuzzy feeling inside.

So yeah, Jim Kirk's been in a good mood lately, and he doesn't let anyone hinder him. But then there's Bones. The southerner is always grumpy in the morning, but in the last two classes, since he has them both with him, the man was on edge, something wasn't right. Jim told himself that he'd investigate what has stirred so much trouble in his friend's life, but to be honest, he got distracted by his Book Club meeting.

Wearily, he dismisses the group, yet they still linger and his eyes search through the faces, no one new, but none that he entirely recognizes. They're a group of strangers discussing books. Or they're a group of friends with a stranger as a leader, he can't tell. There are mentions of grabbing a drink but Jim shrugs off invitations, he's not drinking tonight.

"James?"

His stomach does a flip, "Hermione?" Jim says, hopping from the table he was currently sitting on and strolling his way over to the blonde.

She smiles gently, "What is this?" Hermione gestures towards the crowd of ten students or so, mingling within the room.

"Oh, just my Book Club." He grins with a hint of pride.

"Your Book Club?" Her eyebrows raise and Jim can only hope she's impressed and not mocking him.

"Yeah."

She shakes her head with a laugh, "You never fail to surprise me James."

"Nor do you."

Jim excuses himself from the club, stepping out of the lounge room which they occupy, for they were in the campus 'house', which also contains the game room, the 'beloved' washing machines and an eatery.

"Are you doing anything else tonight?" She asks, leaning against the wall.

His heart flutters, "Uhh, no I'm actually free all night." Jim responds, edging closer until he has his hands placed on either side of her head against the wall.

Lately he and Hermione have been hitting it off, and he's glad, it serves as a nice distraction from his disaster of a life. Of course, consciously he doesn't realize he's using her, Jim just thinks it's how it works. Relationships are purely physical to him.

He tenses when he feels her long slick fingers curl around the waistband of his trousers, drawing his hips to hers.

Bringing his hands to the back of her head, Jim leans forward, breathing in one last time before letting his lips submerge into hers, feeling the fiery passion of Hermione's tongue push into his mouth, then her sharp teeth working his lower lip into almost a feel of submission, and hell, for once Jim's okay with her leading the way.

Hermione peels back and Jim tastes the tang of metallic blood in his mouth.

"Your place?" He prompts, giving a stupid lopsided grin, "My place." Hermione breathes, snatching his hand and dragging him away to her dorm.

Jim forgets about Book Club, he forgets about his own wants and needs, he forgets about classes and due dates, he forgets about his issues, and ultimately he forgets about Bones as Hermione pulls him to the girls' dorm and sneaks him into her room without so much as a soul noticing.

By the time Jim catches his breath from racing all the way up the stairs Hermione has already thrown off everything besides her undergarments.

Oxygen escapes his lungs and he's left staring at her as she draws to him, sliding off his jacket for him.

Smiling he kicks off his boots and discards his undershirt, pushing Hermione onto the bed rather forcefully.

The blonde moans when Jim pins her down, with him between her, long legs straddling his hips and his face into her neck. She bites his ear and moves to the tender skin beneath it. Turning, Jim finds himself on the bottom with Hermione stripping him of his last clothing.

"Now that's not fair." Jim chides, reaching forward and undoing Hermione's bra and watching it ceremoniously drop onto his stomach.

"Not too handsy James." She whispers, sitting back to momentarily take off the very last article of clothing and then pressing herself back on top, after brushing away the bra.

Jim would be lying if he said he didn't feel slightly panicked. Naturally, he likes to be in control, but he's also very easily submissive and conforming when it comes to pleasing someone else, even disregarding his own needs. So instead of fighting it, he lets her stay dominant, lets her set the pace, and let's her work him into compliance until she's through, not when he's had enough.

He rides it out, lets his mind depart from his body. He's addicted to the feeling, the feeling of no true belonging yet still apathetic. He likes the distraction, it stops him from thinking and for once he's just feeling and letting himself be felt. He doesn't care where she bites or where her hands grope with nails scratching his skin, he enjoys the pain.

When she gives him control, him on top of her smooth body, he sets a rhythmic pace. She bites if he goes too hard, and squeezes when he slows. Hermione dictates the movements, the speed, and the length. She ultimately controls him. He knew she had him wrapped around her finger since the day they've met.

He stays until she's done, until she's passed out with exhaustion beside him. He lies there blinking up at the ceiling, his body shaking with the aftereffects.

Slowly he lets his mind come back to him before climbing out of the bed, making sure to cover Hermione's bare skin with the blanket.

Jim dresses quickly and departs into the night air, still shivering. He stumbles numbly all the way to his room, only to come to a locked door and no ID card. Typical. Last time he knocked this late at night, Francis handed his ass to him on a silver platter, so Jim doesn't even bother. Instead he makes his way to Bones' dorms.

Luckily, he isn't spotted by security, yet again they've grown uncaring in the past couple of weeks.

Tiredly he waves his hand over the sensor, finding the room oddly unlocked and quite lively. The lights are all on and there's a distant mumbling coming from the bedroom. Snapping from his daze, Jim lets the door slide shut and locks it, continuing curiously forward into the room.

"Bones?" He calls out, expecting an answer, but the murmur only continues faintly.

Swallowing, he tries again, "Bones?"

"You asshole!"

Jim ducks, a beer bottle shattering behind him against the wall, "What the hell?" He growls, watching Bones stagger out of the doorway, another bottle in his hands.

"Who the hell invited you?" The southerner slurs, nearly chucking his other bottle at the blond, but Jim lurches forward and snatches his arm, "I did, I'm locked out of my room again, thought I could crash here." He explains, prying the drink from Bones' sweaty hands and guiding him to the couch.

"Oh, well please invite yourself out as well because I don't want you." Bones mutters, whining as Jim forces him to sit down.

"Bones, what's going on?"

"Worry about yourself you little shit."

Fixing him with a glare, Jim sits down beside him, "Bones, what happened?"

Bones stares at him, opening his mouth to answer, only to snort, "I'm not drunk enough for this."

Before he can get up, Jim grabs him and pushes him back down, "Bones tell me what the hell is wrong or I'll tie you to the bed frame for a week."

"You should've asked earlier. Selfish bastard."

"Look Bones, I'm sorry. I-I had other things going on."

"Shows where I'm at on that priority list."

"Please, Bones. Let me make it up to you." Jim pleads, he never pleads. But losing Bones would be the end of him, and despite his protests, Jim Kirk doesn't want to die.

Bones sighs and Jim swears he can see tears glistening at the edges of those rich orbs, "It's my little girl." He begins and Jim nods, "Joanna right?" Recalling from the conversation oh so long ago, with both of them on Jim's bedroom floor with Chinese food between them.

"Yeah…um yeah. She uh, she turned six yesterday."

Jim's mouth hangs agape. While he had been having sex, Bones' daughter turned six, and he wasn't even there to split a drink between them.

"I'm sorry Bones."

"Don't be sorry, I'm the one who helped bring the miracle of life onto this godforsaken planet in the first place."

"No, I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier."

Bones nods, abruptly standing to his feet, "Where are you going?" Jim implores, "Getting us some drinks." The southerner replies, heading into his room for a moment before returning with several more bottles.

Jim grins, "Are you sure Bones?"

"Pretty."

They get comfy on the couch, and Jim lends him his ears, he's back to pleasing people and letting himself be consumed by them. How'd he come to this? Who knows. But this is his way of letting himself feel important, he thinks being used is the same thing as wanted and appreciated, it's not, but Jim Kirk has himself all backwards, upside down, and going in all the wrong directions when it comes to these types of things.

"I haven't seen Joanna since the divorce…" Bones explains sadly.

Jim straightens, determined to listen as he slowly sips at the alcohol. He's going to remain sober.

"…it's my ex-wife, Jocelyn, she won't let me see her, and then she won full custody in court because I was too drunk to put together a sentence when I showed up." The southerner snorts a laugh, mumbling something into the bottle as he downs it.

Jim nods, waiting patiently for the man to continue.

Bones pauses, staring at Jim with keen interest, "Why do you care?"

The question catches him off guard, reminding him that Bones is probably broken in more ways than he is. Of course it's not true, but Jim tries his best to act like he's got it together.

"Because, you're the only friend I got."

"Could've done better ya'know."

"Probably not." Jim smirks, cherishing the smile that springs onto Bones' lips.

"You probably don't want to hear the rest." Bones decides, glancing away.

Jim keeps his blue eyes on Bones, "I'm all ears."

Bones nods gratefully, huffing a breath and thinking where to pick up, "Remember how I told you Jocelyn liked another guy?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it was some asshole named Clay Treadway from back in high school. You see, we all went to the same school. I was just the outcast, too smart to fit in-"

"You can at least try to be modest." Jim interjects, earning a punch to the shoulder.

"As I was saying-I didn't really fit in, but first semester of 2244, my senior year. She was dating that no good bastard at the time, but we all went to this dance at our school. Jocelyn ended up dancing with me and dumping that asshole…we got married four years later and then Joanna came into our lives…"

Bones takes a shuddering breath, trying to calm himself. Jim simply an arm around his shoulders, urging him to finish.

"…It wasn't until a few years later, while I was getting my medical degree, Jocelyn started falling in love with Treadway, I-I was so lonely…I couldn't handle it anymore. She-she took everything Jim-oh god Jim, she took everything!"

Sobs begin to heave out in short gasps of greedy breaths. Jim grabs his head and guides him to his shoulder, one hand rubbing the southerner's back while the other strokes the brown locks of hair.

"She t-took everything." Bones whispers miserable between sobs, snatching Jim's shirt in a desperate plea to hold onto reality.

Jim looks down; feeling utterly out of touch from the world, yet Bones is using him as an anchor to something he's not even standing on.

"It's alright Bones, she sounds like a bitch."

The "f you" goes mumbled into his chest with a lousy punch into his kidneys, but he's already numb and still shaky from his time with Hermione so it's only futile.

Jim remains with Bones until his sobs die down, and he's able to gather himself off of the blond.

The southerner wipes his nose with a sleeve, "Sorry, I shouldn't have lost it like that."

"It's okay." Jim reassures, but Bones shakes his head, "It shouldn't have happened."

"You're only human." Jim replies, and Bones smiles, "Yeah, I guess so."

It's his turn to play doctor. Jim cleans up the mess, sweeping up the fragments of the bottle meant for his head. He throws out the trash and takes Bones to his bed, helping the drunken man strip down into a shirt and boxers. The blond waits until Bones has fallen asleep before leaving to the couch, snatching a blanket from the empty bedroom and getting comfy.

Letting his eyes flutter shut, darkness envelopes around him, bringing a cascade of black and blue that laps at his feet and pulls him under. Beneath the crashing waves of his subconscious reigns his demons that run rampant and plague his thoughts, causing him to thrash and turn. They hiss and bite at him, bringing a whimper through his lips. It's not until one strikes through his heart does he lurch forward in frightened haste, kicking the blanket from his body and taking in the darkened room about him.

Jim takes a glance over at Bones, the southerner is still past out on the bed, sleeping soundlessly. Then his gaze falls onto the digital clock, he's only slept an hour, yet he can tell by the ache in his muscles and the resistance in his eyes that he's slept as long as he possibly can tonight.

So instead, Jim places himself on Bones' study desk in his room, watching his friend, no, his best friend sleep with a bottle of beer in hand. Because even though there's nothing for him to do, making sure Bones is still breathing is the very least he can do.

 **Author's Note: It's been awhile hasn't it? I try, I really do. Thanks for all the reviews guys, I've been trying to reply to all of them, if I didn't, sorry just know I've been very busy lately. But, thanks guys for sticking around this long. I did skip the month of September because there was nothing planned that month so I jumped straight into October to get back into action. So, I hope you've enjoyed it thus far, and stay tuned for more. If you have any ideas, suggestions, or questions, feel free to pm me. Thanks and stick around. Live Long and Prosper.**


	14. Chapter 14

**"I believe that no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 14**

He claws his way to conscious, his mind surfacing through the pounding headache called a hangover. His eyes peel open to find that the lighting of the room is adequate. Turning, a pair of blue eyes watch his movements, they're rimmed with redness and the skin beneath is puffy and black, but the chapped lips below them contain a smile.

Leonard forces his body to sit up, suppressing a groan.

"Morning sunshine." Jim greets him cheerfully, but not too loud, minding the headache.

"What happened?" He rubs his eyes, trying to clear his vision, "It was a long night."

"What now?"

"We go to Forensic Psychology, you've already missed Xenobiology."

"Damn it Jim."

"Sorry, just making sure you got some rest." Jim replies slowly, and Leonard notices the gruff edge to the kid's voice, "Did you sleep last night?"

The blond nods, forcing a smile onto his face, "Plenty."

Leonard just accepts the answer, "Good, what time is it now?"

"I dunno, ten-ish?"

"Damn it." Leonard swings his legs to the floor, stretching his back.

Jim just sits back, still dressed in his red uniform, Leonard guesses he's wearing the same one from yesterday, which also means he hasn't bathed, and at this rate, probably hasn't eaten anything. But his sore muscles and growling stomach take a hold of him and he pushes away the thoughts. Jim's smart enough to take care of himself, he doesn't need to babysit the kid.

"Alright, I'm gonna take a shower, you're free to any food I got lying around." Leonard waves the blond off, snatching some clothes, but there's a ninety percent chance Jim won't take him up on the offer, nonetheless the kid pipes up, "Okay." The blond's words are dry, lacking of their usually enthusiastic tone, though he supposes it's just been a long week for the kid.

Leonard leaves without another word, letting the shower's cooling water soothe his muscles, relaxing his mind. He makes it quick though, washing his hair and body before toweling himself dry. He only comes out of the shower ten minutes later, fully dressed in his red uniform.

Jim's head snaps up from where he sits on the couch, hands tightly clasped together around his knees.

"Been here all night?" Leonard prompts, heading to the replicator to get some food, "Yeah." Jim mutters, straightening himself out.

"Should we stop at your place then?"

"Mmhmm." Jim hums, hands kneading at his skull, "Guess I'm not the only one with a headache." Leonard comments, coming back around with an apple in hand, "Did you eat?"

The blond nods.

Another lie, yet Leonard lets it slip.

"Alright, let's go."

The two leave the room, heading over to the Roddenberry dorms for a quick grab for Jim's PADD, grateful that Francis actually let them inside.

"Why don't we all just go over there together?" Francis suggests before the pair have the opportunity to slip out, "Sure, why not?" Leonard offers a fake smile, his mind still aching over his daughter.

Jim nods.

They brush through the crowds, Francis slinging his arm over the blond's shoulder, whispering something into his ear. Jim pales, but covers it up with a grin. Leonard can only wonder what was said.

They reach their psychology class with time to spare, but Jim isn't his enthusiastic self, and Leonard soon learns why when the she-devil herself slithers into the room, with one goal in mind, Jim.

Leonard and Jim have situated themselves comfortably, with Francis leaving them to sit by his own friends. They're both awfully quiet, which is odd for them, they're usually the loudest pair. But with Leonard's mind plagued with thoughts of his baby girl, and Jim, well, with whatever the hell he's going through, they just don't seem to have the energy to speak.

Then she appears and Leonard wonders why he hasn't put the puzzle pieces together sooner.

"Hey James." Hermione snakes into view, her hands gliding across the blond's shoulders, lips pressing against his forehead.

"Hey babe." Jim greets with smile, it seems genuine, but Leonard can see the tension in his eyes.

"Last night was amazing, maybe, you could, you know. Come over tonight as well?" Hermione places herself on the table, holding Jim's chin up, while the other hand strokes his greasy hair back.

"I don't know-"

"C'mon James, I've never seen your room yet?" She chides, giving him a gentle smile. "I have combat training tomorrow morning…" Jim starts, but Hermione gives him a look, "Yeah, of course, my place tonight."

"Alright, meet me at the usual?"

"Yeah, see ya then babe." Jim replies, letting his girlfriend plant a kiss on the top of his head before strolling away.

Leonard blinks, unsure of how to make himself known once more, "Wow, how long?"

"Couple weeks now."

"Shit man, didn't know. Are you-are you guys, ya'know, doing it?"

"If you're talking about sex, then yes, we're doing it."

"Oh, just wondering."

Silence befalls them as Professor Nichols speaks up, "Alright class, quiet down now. Please turn your textbook to chapter ten discussion."

She waits a moment for everyone to dig it out, turning the pages rapidly as if she'd continue without them, Nichols wouldn't, she's one of the sweetest women on campus.

"Everyone have it?"

A few nods in the crowd.

"Good, now see the next page? Uhh, Cadet Kirk can you read the project instructions?"

Jim nods, "Yes ma'am."

The blond clears his throat, eyes quickly skimming over the instructions to find the exact location of the desired passage, "Students will be given an identity, interrogator, suspect, or murderer. The student will then be given until next class to create a background for themselves, some of which may be true and some completely fictional. Each student will be quizzed by the interrogator. The interrogator will question the student and state if the suspect is lying or not to the audience. The objective of the simulation is for the interrogator to correctly choose the murderer before the time is up. Each simulation can have six to twelve participators, and will be fully controlled by the instructor."

"Thank you cadet."

"Yes ma'am." Jim nods.

"Alright, we'll be doing it slightly different. I'm going to divide the class into two groups, so roughly groups of fourteen or so. I want you guys to spend the rest of class outlining your character's background once I've assigned you your role. Understood?"

Everyone nods.

"Good, I'll be sending a number to everyone's PADDs. If you get number one, sit on this side," Professor Nichols gestures towards the right of her, "And if you get a two, sit on this side."

Then all the PADDs buzz as they receive their assigned numbers.

Leonard glances down, seeing that he has been assigned to group number two.

"Looks like we're going separate ways partner." Jim grins, patting him on the shoulder before getting up to switch sides.

Leonard watches him leave, noticing that Francis is also in Jim's group. He sits there, letting everyone come to him.

"Okay, now, I'll be giving you your assigned role, I do not want you to share with anyone what it is, even if you're in different groups."

The rest of the day is a drag, his mind is far too distracted to write a whole background story for his fictional character, what makes it worse is that he's a lowly suspect, nothing to hide, nothing to gain. Maybe he can get murdered, that'd make it more interesting.

When class ends, Jim magically appears by his side, "Hey, lunch is on me, anywhere you want, just name it."

He frowns, "Why so nice?"

"Owe you one." Jim smiles, ruffling his hair despite his obvious protests against the display of affection, "For what?"

"Ya'know, I haven't had a fight in weeks, I owe you that at the very least."

Leonard nods, he'll take it, anything for Jim to pay for his lunch, the damn kid is always snooping for the crumbs, nibbling at Leonard's lunch, running off with pieces of his dinner, the blond is always hungry. Though, recently things have taken a turn.

They leave the class, side by side like they always do. Though they may physically be close, mentally is a different picture. Leonard's trapped in a world, embracing his sweet Joanna, baking pancakes and frying eggs on the stove with her. Jim, well he's a different story, who knows what dark monster has his mind chained to the floor, his subconscious screaming for his mute voice to be heard.

"Bones." Jim prods his shoulder, adjusting the things within his arms, "I'm gonna drop my stuff off, wanna meet at the hill in ten?"

The 'hill' is the place where Jim had romantically professed his love for the stars, where he'd passed out drunk on Leonard's legs and tried to have sex with him, yeah, that hill, now it's their meeting place, completely appropriate.

"Yeah, that'll work."

Jim nods, slapping him on the shoulder, "Alright, see you then."

The blond appears to happily skip away, turning left to his own dorm while Leonard trails lazily to the right, the Barrett dorms slowly coming into view. He takes his sweet time, mind still wondering and stumbling over the what ifs of his life. There are a lot of them, so it keeps him busy the whole way there.

Leonard's still thinking when he blindly strolls into his room, proceeding to dump his belongings on the floor, not bothering for a table. Blinking, he grabs the last bottle of beer from his room before heading back out. Of course drinking is not permitted on campus, but hell, he'll do whatever he wants.

He keeps the bottle close, leaving the room with the bottle of beer and his student ID, it's all he needs right now, Jim will handle the rest, like he always does.

When he reaches the hill, the blond is already there, head bowed in silence, arms resting on bent knees. The kid looks peaceful, yet slightly disturbed, as if a shadow has been lingering within him.

"Wanna talk?" He offers, revealing the bottle in his hand.

Jim doesn't even look up, "Talk about what?"

"About Hermione, she's controlling you Jimbo."

The blond perks up at his nickname, knowing whenever Leonard uses it he's going soft on him.

"Stay out of it Bones, it's none of your business."

Leonard frowns, "When it concerns you? Yeah, it's my business."

"Can we just get something to eat?" Jim says in almost a pleading tone, Jim Kirk never pleads.

Leonard hummpfs, "Sure, let's go." He yanks the blond to his feet, letting him lead the way.

Jim takes him to the city, on foot, not to complain but Leonard would've preferred a ride, but the blond seems so content glancing around at the tall buildings that he couldn't destroy the moment. Leonard isn't sure if the blond meant to remain quiet, but either way he allows it, maybe they need some time to think. Jim doesn't even say anything when Leonard chucks the empty beer bottle into the ocean inside of throwing it away.

"How about here?" Jim prompts suddenly, gesturing towards the Burger Connection.

He nods, "Sure, looks good to me."

They stroll inside, Jim seeming to blend in so well.

"Hey Katie!" Jim greets a woman from across the ordering counter, "Hey Jim, want the usual?" Katie asks nicely, "Uhh, can you make it two? I brought my friend, Bones with me."

"Oh sure! Any friend of yours is welcome here. Two cheeseburgers and large fries coming up."

Jim gives her the money and extends his hand for the change and receipt which he stuffs into his pocket. He turns to Leonard, signaling him over.

"Alright your order number two fifty-five." Katie informs Jim before scurrying away to the kitchen.

Jim guides him to the benches, sitting down with a sigh.

"You must eat here often." Leonard mentions, glancing around, he's never been here before, but clearly Jim has, "Yeah, business is slow here, but I like it." Jim replies, hesitating slightly.

The blond pauses, glancing up to meet Leonard's eyes, "Wanna talk about last night?"

He stiffens, taking the moment to scratch at his hair, "I'm not entirely sure 'what' happened last night." He admits.

Jim nods, "You were drunk last night…"

"Like I couldn't tell by the headache." He grumbles in response.

"You told me about the divorce."

Leonard feels his heart restrict, his lungs pausing in mid exhale, only to forcefully push the rest out to suck in another gulp, "Yeah, yeah the divorce is ugly."

"I got as much."

"Thanks Jim."

"Don't mention it Bones."

Leonard sighs, "Now it's your turn."

"Hmm, not quite." Jim hums.

"C'mon, I shared some of my past; it's only fair that you do the same."

Jim's eyes narrow at him, "This isn't some trade-off Bones, this is our lives. I'll share when I'm ready."

Leonard knows better than not to pry, but the situation with Hermione and Jim keeps nagging at him, "Can you at least tell me about Hermione? What's the deal with her?"

"Here you go gentlemen, I called your number but I believe you didn't hear." Katie suddenly appears, placing their food before them, stopping the conversation from heading into a touchy subject.

"Thanks Katie." Jim smiles and the lady meets it with one of her own before strolling back behind the counter to take the next order.

"Jim." Leonard pries, but the kid shakes his head, "Let's eat Bones."

So they do, and Jim supplies mindless chatter, talks of classes, upcoming assignments, and something mumbled about his Book Club. All the while Leonard lets his mind be consumed, mouth chewing steadily on his delicious greasiness.

He keeps thinking back to his daughter, wishing to bring her into a tight embrace, to place a kiss on her cheek, to watch her sleep in her bed. He just wants to be near her, to feel her soft hair beneath his fingertip, to let the sweet smell of her skin linger in his nostrils. He misses her so much.

"Bones…" Jim nudges his mind back to reality, "Yeah?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"What?"

"Never mind." The look on Jim's face is twisted into one of pain, yet still somewhat relief as if he said something he didn't actually want Leonard to hear, he can only wonder what.

"Good food right?" Jim steers the conversation away, "Yeah, it's amazing; you should've told me about this place sooner."

"Calm yourself old man, I didn't want you getting fat." Jim jokes, earning a glare.

"Well, next time we come, lunch is on me."

"I'll hold you to that." Jim smirks, and Leonard almost feels that things are back to normal, but with Jim, who the hell knows what normal is, there is no such word in the kid's dictionary.

They finish up their meal and Jim says his goodbyes to Katie before leaving, Leonard gesturing him out the door, "Thanks for lunch Jim."

"Yeah, anytime Bones." Jim smiles, wrapping an arm around Leonard's shoulders, steering him in the right direction.

Leonard lets Jim keep his arm there, and it's actually a good thing he did, because half way to campus, the blond falters in step, nearly faceplanting if it weren't for Leonard's reaching hands.

"Damn it Jim, what the hell?" He growls, stabilizing the blond on his feet, "Sorry, guess that burger didn't settle well." Jim admits sheepishly, and it's then that Leonard realizes the pale color of the kid's skin.

The kid hasn't slept or eaten in a very long time.

"Yeah, I guess so, c'mon, it's only a little further." Leonard urges, placing a hand on the kid's back, setting a steady pace.

They reach campus in a timely fashion, and on the way to Roddenberry dorms, they're met by a panting Chekov. The boy's cheeks have flushed bright red, and there's a fear gleaming in his eyes.

Leonard frowns, he and Jim glancing at each other before back to Chekov.

"What's going on Pav?" Jim implores, grabbing the boy by the bicep to stop him from stumbling over, "It's your roommate."

The blond tilts his head, clearly confused, "Yeah, what about him?"

"He's locked up in your room. People say his-his mother died."

Leonard feels his heart rate escalate.

"What's this gotta do with me though?" Jim prompts, searching Chekov's eyes for clues.

The Russian boy swallows, running hand through his locks of red hair, "Finnegan is there with him."

Jim's eyes widen, "Alright, its okay. I'll handle it." Jim promises, "Thanks Pav."

Chekov nods his head, "No problem."

Jim turns to run off but Leonard catches his arm, "Jim, you can't seriously be going in there." He growls sternly, "Bones, I know what it's like to lose someone you love. I can help him."

"When have you cared?" Leonard asks, "When did you think that I didn't?" Jim retaliates, hands clenched in boiling rage, and the kid that seemed so sick only mere minutes ago is gone.

Leonard takes a step back, physically and mentally, "Jim, you'll get your head ripped off if you go in there; Finnegan will beat you into a pulp."

"Well that's just a risk I'm willing to take." Jim replies sharply, prying Leonard's hand off of his arm.

"Jim please." Leonard says, searching those bright blue eyes.

Jim's body sags slightly, "I'll be good, I promise Bones." The blond whispers, before turning to sprint off towards the dorm.

Leonard feels his heart melt, and for a moment, he lets himself believe it, he has to.

He stares after him, feeling Chekov's stare penetrating his skull, "He needs you, you know that right?" The boy informs him.

He nods, sighing dramatically, "Yeah, he needs me. But I don't think he knows that just yet."

 **Author's Note: Woah, what is Jim getting himself into now? I had to somehow bring the characters back into a bloody mess. Also, I think it's about time Jim breaks his innocent streak, Bones can't stop him from getting into fights, it's just the Jim Kirk way. Well, I hope you've enjoyed the chapter, and that it wasn't too boring, I just had to recapture the emotions, this chapter is setting the theme for the upcoming chapters, because I have some serious stuff planned and I can't wait to share it with you guys and it's going to hurt so bad, so prepare yourselves. I hope you guys are as excited as me! Anyways, thanks ghostbeach, Anonymous and LOORIOVER50, your guys' reviews are much appreciated and make me laugh and smile when I read them. So, thanks for sticking around this long and I hope you guys ride this thing to the end, because we're about to get into some deep feelz here, I hope you're prepared. Live Long and Prosper.**


	15. Chapter 15

**"A best friend is someone who knows when to shout, and when to hold you in their arms and let you cry."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 15**

For so long he has been aching, yearning for this. He hadn't realized that his vow to not fight anymore has brought in so much tension and anxiety it's beginning to physically hurt. But this, this is his opportunity, his new outlet, he's found it, and he knows how to cover up.

He enters the room, heart pounding. He knows the feeling. He's felt it. He knows how to make the feeling go away, and at the same time, satisfy his own hurting.

He takes the stairs two at a time. His mind is lost; it didn't make it inside the building. He's blinded by his own pain and his protective need not to let anyone else feel the same.

Hands trembling, he swipes his card over the sensor and is relieved when the door slides back, letting him inside.

The door closes and Jim allows his ears to take in the sounds, for the room is dark and his eyes are still adjusting. There are muffled cries from the couch and there's a dark figure looming before him.

"Jimmy boy." Finnegan's voice startles him, and his tone isn't one of joy or his usual pompous, it's cold and threatening.

Jim swallows, taking a bold step forward, "I heard what happened." He replies sternly, Finnegan nods, taking him to the couch where Francis sits, face pressed into the pillow.

"Hey, Francis." Jim greets, getting the go-ahead from Finnegan's nod.

Francis becomes rigid, and his releases the pillow from his grasp, "What are you doing here?" Jim's roommate growls, discarding the pillow and glaring accusingly at Finnegan as if he was supposed to stop Jim from coming in.

"Thought I could help."

"How?"

"By making the pain go away." Jim replies calmly.

Francis' face screws over with puzzlement, "And how do you do that?"

"Stand up." Jim commands, and Francis does so willingly, giving a worried glance over to where Finnegan watches.

"Hit me."

"What?" Francis' voice falters.

Jim shakes his head, "C'mon you shit, just hit me."

"Why would I hit you?" Francis implores, his frustration and confusion clearly written on his face.

"It'll make you feel better."

He sees Francis clearly ponder it.

He sighs, "Trust me, just hit-"

A punch to the gut makes him keel over, hands on knees, and god did it feel good. The exhilarating pain that runs its way up his body, giving him a new energy, he loves it.

"Again." Jim orders, so Francis obeys, grabbing him by the hair to knock him over with a fist to the face.

Jim stumbles to the ground, spitting the blood from his mouth and gathering himself up, he loves this feeling, the pain that throbs steadily within his body, "Again."

"I dunno Jim-"

"Damn it Francis! Again!" He screams and he watches at Francis readies himself.

Francis hits him in the eye socket this time, sending him into the wall. Jim feels his head smack against the surface, vision going black for a couple seconds, "Again…" Jim mutters, blinking the blurriness away.

His roommate doesn't hold back anymore, Jim can feel the raging pain with each hit, with each punch and kick, he feels Francis' tension beginning to build up until it explodes. And little does Francis know that Jim needs this almost as much as he does. Jim needs this pain, Francis doesn't.

Finnegan all the while sits back amusingly, watching Jim get the shit beat out of him.

At first Jim keeps asking for more, practically begging, for the hits to be harder, for Francis not to hold back, but within minutes Jim can't even stand up, he's letting Francis yank him up by the hair only to be knocked back down, and minutes later Francis is kicking him into oblivion and even Finnegan begins to worry.

He's on the ground, curled up tightly, yet he doesn't fight it. He lets Francis kick him repeatedly, until he's crying out in pain yet still yearning for more. There's a war raging inside, his body screaming for it to stop, but his mind applauding it, wishing upon more pain.

"Alright Francis, enough." Finnegan steps in, grabbing the man by the shoulders to steer him to the couch.

Francis shrugs the helping hands and let's himself collapse on the couch, breathing heavily, "Thanks Jim."

Slowly, Jim rolls onto his back, the room spinning with three Finnegan's bending over him. He coughs, blood spluttering from his mouth. His ribs burn, his head pounds, and his body is beginning to spasm out in pain. He's barely breathing and the darkness is creeping into his vision.

Finnegan reaches down; pulling Jim up, and he cries out in pain, but his bully catches him, guiding him to the bathroom sink. His whole body throbs and pulses, eyes cracked open, blood seeping down his face.

Jim's lets his head be pushed underneath the faucet, while Finnegan runs the water over his head. Water runs down his face and within seconds he's struggling to breathe. He tries to pull away, but there's a hand keeping his head pinned underneath.

It feels like ages later until his suffering is put to an end, with Finnegan turning off the sink and depositing him in the tub, still in his clothes. Finnegan turns on the shower head, putting it on the coldest setting.

"This should help with the bruised bones." Finnegan grins, plugging the drain and drawing the curtains, leaving Jim to lie there, freezing water beating down on him and slowly pooling around him.

Jim feels his body grow numb, shivering constantly. He tries to move his legs, to maybe even reach forward to make the water warmer, but he can barely think of doing it, let alone actually doing it. He closes his eyes, welcoming the darkness that takes a hold of him.

It's not until much later he awakes, and it's to the sound of the water draining. There's a hand nudging his cheek.

"Bones…?" He moans, leaning into the touch, and god is he glad he's here.

"It's Hermione." Her voice replies gently, stroking his hair back.

He shudders at her touch and god does he hate the fact she's here to see him so vulnerable. Blinking, he makes out her kneeling over him, he's still in the bathtub, the water is gone, but streaks of crimson blood stain the white interior.

Hermione smiles, she's wearing her regulation pants, but her jacket his been tossed aside, and her undershirt is a little too revealing.

"Her-Hermione." He says, shivers going up and down his spine.

"C'mon James, let's get you out of here." She says, guiding him up into a sitting position, causing him to whimper, before promptly steering him over the bathtub's lip.

He nearly collapses, but she catches him and continues to settle him upon the floor. She dries him off, taking off his boots and socks and helping Jim sit up before taking off his jacket and then gently pulling off his shirt.

Jim grunts, not able to hide his pain as she does so. It's then that his many bruises are revealed. Panting, he squeezes his eyes shut, letting Hermione's hands snack down, feeling the curve of his abs, then resting on the zipper of his pants.

But she doesn't take them off; instead she leads him into bed first, guiding him into a lying position.

Jim blinks, trying to gain his vision, when he does, he's staring up at the ceiling, Hermione crouching over him, her hands finding the zipper once more. When he looks at her, she's wearing her undershirt and some very tight spandex, her pants nowhere to be seen.

He swallows somewhat nervously as Hermione pulls the rest of his clothes off, leaving him bare. He's not ready for this, he can't handle this, and most definitely, he doesn't need this. This will do more damage, but if it's what she wants, he'll do it.

Slowly, Hermione straddles his hips, sitting up to momentarily release her long flowing blonde hair.

Jim's head lulls, he's barely holding onto consciousness, but the sight of her keeps him going. Gently she lowers herself down onto him, minding the extreme pain he's currently in.

"Finnegan told me what happened." She whispers into his ear, then proceeds to tongue it.

The blond trembles at her touch, and he wishes to protest her actions, but he can't find his voice, so he's left watching as Hermione straightens once more, throwing off the rest of her clothes and bringing the blanket on top of them.

"It's alright James, don't fight it, just close your eyes." Hermione soothes, seeing that his breathing has escalated into an almost panicked state.

Jim nods, letting his eyes fall shut. Maybe if he closes his eyes long enough, all of this will be over; this nightmare of a life will be gone.

Hermione starts delicately, letting him hold her in place, feeling his aching body protest each thrust. He's hardly breathing with each push, he knows what she's doing to him but he doesn't stop her, he likes the pain. Steadily she works the pace up until he whimpers, until a piece of his soul is torn from him, and it's then he can't stop the pitiful sobs that rip from his throat.

She pauses, kissing the tears away, "It's alright James, it's going to be okay." She hushes him, stroking his hair.

Jim holds onto her tighter, "I just want it to stop, please, I want it to stop." He begs, biting his lower lip until it bleeds.

"Please, James, you don't want that, you need this. You must see that."

He shakes his head rebelliously, "Please, Hermione, stop. Please?" He cries, hands gripping her back, face pressed into her shoulder to stifle the sobs. He wants to push her way, to break free from her grip, but he's not strong enough, he's too weak. He keeps crying.

He hasn't cried in front of someone since he was a kid.

"James." Hermione replies, moving herself to face him directly, "I'll make it all better. Trust me."

"It hurts."

That's all that will make it past his quivering lips, tears obscuring his vision, "I know James, it'll all be over soon. I promise." She soothes, biting at his jaw.

And for some weird reason, Jim trusts her, he does believe her, so he lets her continue, lets himself be tortured further. He loses himself within her, his identity disappears and he's become her slave. He can't even feel her anymore, and he doesn't feel himself be felt. He's so blinded by his pain that the only thing he sees is darkness.

He doesn't even know that he cried the rest of the time.

Before he knows it, he is the darkness, and he's left alone within it. Hermione is gone, who knows when she left. He can't recall when he'd closed his eyes, or when he'd opened them again, he just knows that he's alone again and the darkness is trying to keep him company.

He wishes he'd died, he wishes that Francis had knocked a rib into his lungs so he can drown within his own blood. That seems more pleasurable than this, whatever the hell this is. Caught in a state between the living and hell. His soul slowly losing grip on his body, his mind trapped within a cage.

But a certain someone comes into the room, and not in the quietest fashion, more of slapping of boots against the floor and a gasp.

"Jimbo? Shit, it's worse than I thought."

The familiar southern drawl brings Jim back to reality, to finally accept his current situation, to finally acknowledge his pain.

"Hey, hey it's alright kid."

He hadn't realized he'd started crying.

Bones places himself beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "It's all over Jimbo, they're gone."

Jim's whole body begins to shake, so he curls into himself, hoping to block out the world. He just wants to be alone, let himself die.

"C'mon kid, please stop crying, I don't know what to do kid, tell me what to do." Bones desperately pleas with him.

Jim doesn't reply, keeping his face buried in his hands as silent deathly sobs fall from his mute mouth.

"Alright, alright, lemme fix this kid." Bones tells him, getting up and coming back with some clothes, "Here put this on Jimbo."

Jim doesn't stir from his position, so he lets Bones draw his legs out as he slips on a pair of boxers, followed by some pants. Bones pulls a shirt over his head and slides his arms through the sleeves.

"That better kid? God you looks like a mess, I'm so sorry kid, I'm so sorry."

He keeps his face tucked away, not wanting to see Bones' expression. He feels Bones sit beside him once more, bringing the blanket up around his shoulders.

"Jim, you're frozen kid." Bones says, rubbing his arm to get the circulation going, "Hey, hey look at me kid, lemme so those eyes."

Sniffling, Jim raises his head, slowly turning to look at Bones, "It's gonna be okay Jimbo." Bones soothes, bringing him into a strong embrace.

Jim lets himself fall apart once more, knowing that Bones will be there to hold him together as he sobs heavily into the man's chest. Blindly he fastens onto the southerner's shirt, crying silently until he's too tired to even heave his chest, until there's nothing left inside, until he's hollow. Bones all the while strokes his hair, hushing him, rocking him, and murmuring reassurances, though they mean nothing.

"I asked her to stop." Jim points out hoarsely, shifting so he can lay his head in Bones' lap, with the southerner toiling his hair.

"I know kid." Bones replies softly, hands somewhat hesitatingly running through the blond tufts.

"Don't leave me. I'll be good, I promise, just don't leave me Bones." Jim whispers, shutting his eyes, body shivering with the effort of staying awake.

"It's alright, I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

 **Author's Note: Whaaaaaaat just happened? Did this just take a dark turn? Yes, yes it did. And can I just say, this was only lowkey planned, not really sure where all this dark and moody stuff came from but I hope you guys liked it, also I needed to get rid of Hermione, never really liked her character anyways, I didn't give her much development, and Jimbo deserves better, we know that. But don't worry, Bones will get him all better, but the saddest thing about this is that this isn't the only depressing thing that's going to happen to them, I have something planned, but this chapter starts it, so it had to be done. Well, can I just say I was emotionally compromised while writing this and I hope you guys didn't cry too hard. Oh, thanks for the reviews guys, loving them so much, gets me motivated for the next chapter. So, until next time fam. Live Long and Prosper.**


	16. Chapter 16

**"In your dark days, just turn around and I will be there. And maybe I won't have any more light to give than what you already have. But I will take your hand and we will find the light together."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 16**

He stays there all night, chasing away the demons, keeping his best friend safe and asleep and it's not only the first time he's seen Jim cry, but tonight is the first time he's heard the kid scream. Leonard's always known that something was off with the golden child, that he acted like he had it together, but in reality he was falling apart, and this night just proves all his suspicions.

Leonard has his back leaning against the headrest of the bed. Jim's sleeping fitfully, clinging onto his leg for grounding. The room is dark and gloomy, and Leonard can only wish they were in his dorm room instead.

Eyes droop tiredly, he's been up all night, but the blond's frequent whimpers keep him awake, they pierce the silence and cause a tear to form in Leonard's heart.

It shouldn't be like this, nobody deserves this.

He's contemplated taking the kid to a hospital, but what then? Force him against his will to stay there? To properly heal? Hell, he'll definitely heal physically, but mentally, the kid won't come back, not in a hospital bed.

Jim starts kicking, his whimpers turning into silent cries, his legs curling towards his torso, protecting itself from a hidden enemy. The blond's face furrows, his expression pained, almost tortured. His chest heaves up and down rapidly; sweat building up on the surface of his pale skin.

Leonard's debating whether or not to wake the kid, when he shoots up with a scream of terror, throwing the blankets from his shaking body and managing to tackle Leonard to the ground.

Before he can even protest, Jim's got him pinned, the blond's left knee trapping his right arm, with the other leg smashing Leonard's thighs to the ground. There's a hand gripping his hair tightly and the other one has his throat.

With his free hand, Leonard grabs the arm clutching at his throat, trying to ease the pressure, "Jim, it's me kid." He wheezes, struggling to force Jim's hand off of him.

The blond blinks dully, gears still turning.

"It's Bones." He gasps and sees the spark of realization in those blue eyes. Instantly Jim jumps back, scrambling away to distance himself, and then glares back to Leonard as if he were the issue in this situation.

"Leave." Jim demands sharply.

His mouth hangs, "No way in hell."

"I said leave." Jim insists sternly.

Leonard shakes his head, "What's wrong with you? I'm staying kid whether you like it or not. I want to know why you just tried to strangle me."

"Bones, I said leave…" Jim sounds tired, defeated, and broken, "…please Bones, just leave." The kid hiccups as the tears threaten to come back, "Please just leave me alone."

He edges towards Jim, "Kid, I'm not going anywhere." Leonard states firmly, and he sees Jim's face begin to crumble.

"God Bones, it hurts, just make it stop, please Bones make it go away." Jim's head falls back into his hands as the sobs wrack his body, and Leonard's not quite sure whether he's crying over the emotional trauma or the excruciating pain he must currently be in. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened between Jim and Francis.

"Alright Jim, alright, it's okay, I'll make it stop kid." Leonard soothes, creeping slowly to Jim's side, pressed up against the wall.

Slowly, he drapes his arm around the blond, drawing him closer, head resting on his chest, "Shh, just listen kid…hear that? Just listen kid."

The blond sniffles as he tries to calm himself enough to listen to the steady thump of Leonard's heartbeat, finding it rather calming.

"That's it kid, just close your eyes." Leonard looks down, his left arm snug up against Jim's chest, the kid wrapping around it, while his right hand plays with the golden locks of hair.

"I-I-" Jim hiccups against his chest, but Leonard hushes him, "Calm down kid, I believe you."

"But Bones." The blond whines hoarsely.

Leonard glances down, nose buried in the sweaty blond hair, "Not now. Just close your eyes."

Jim obeys this time, Leonard feeling the tense body sag against his in exhaustion. He sits there, Jim's feverish breath blow against his neck, he waits until they even out, until Jim's breathing has fallen into a steady pace. Before he knows it, the kid's out like a light.

Sighing, Leonard's own eyes begin to sink in fatigue, he's been up all night, and stressing out over Jim isn't helping either. But he'll be here for the kid, he promised he'd stay.

Gently, he awkwardly manhandles Jim, carrying him to the bed and smoothly laying him down, throwing a thin sheet over his sweaty body. The kid's fever has been slowly climbing since he came and Leonard's afraid that in Jim's weakened state, he might not be able to fight off any sort of infection.

Though he's sure the kid's tempted fate once or twice before, Leonard doesn't plan on letting him do it a third. Soon as the kid's blue eyes open, he's taking him to the medical wing for at least the rest of the day, just to get his bruises taken care of and get some drugs pumped into his system. No matter how much Jim refuses. Just for one day, Jim can handle one day right?

Leonard draws an uneasy breath, numbly staring at the struggling life before him. Purple and black swirls crawl up the kid's neck and to his face, his lip is swollen and his torso is littered with dark round bruises from where the blond must've been kicked repeatedly. How can Jim let this happen to himself? Leonard can tell that Jim didn't fight back; there are no scrapes on his knuckles, or the evidence of a victory within the kid's attitude.

Legs quivering with effort, Leonard slides into the bed beside Jim, his body overworked. He longs to stay awake, to make sure Jim doesn't go anywhere, but he won't be able to help Jim if he's too tired to stand.

Leonard finally gives up the fight, eyes falling shut, he embraces the darkness watching Jim sleep.

With how slow time moved, Leonard could've sworn that when he woke up half an hour later, it should be a Saturday, but Jim's four-twenty am alarm for his hand-to-hand training says otherwise.

Surprisingly, Jim is still asleep when Leonard manages to find the damn PADD and shut off the alarm. The kid didn't even stir. Though, at the absence of Leonard's body, Jim begins to mumble and whine.

Allowing himself to roll his eyes, Leonard places himself back in the bed, letting Jim subconsciously press up against his chest, greedy hands clutching his shirt. The blond's face is creased with a frown, but as soon as Leonard runs a hand through the kid's hair, he sighs and his face becomes expressionless.

Leonard falls back asleep with his arm wrapped protectively around Jim, his hand holding the back of the blond's head. Though, the blond isn't without embarrassment, for he clings tightly to Leonard's shoulder, face resting against his chest.

He wakes to a moan, followed by a held in whimper that is enough to get his doctor mode kicking in. Though his mind is quite groggy and he's slow to come to after all the events of last night.

"Jim?" Leonard mumbles, eyes peeling open to take in the darkness, only a low light glooming from underneath the old fashioned door.

With no reply, Leonard takes the hint to become more aware of his surroundings. Jim's still pressed up against his him, his face buried in the folds of his shirt, though Leonard doesn't need to see Jim to know how sick the kid is. Waves of heat emit from the kid's body, and the shivers that rattle up Jim's body cause Leonard himself to shake slightly with each tremor.

Jim needs a hospital, and he needs one now.

Leonard forces his body up, despite Jim's groans of protest.

"Bones…?" Jim's hand blindly reaches up to paw at his arm, yearning for him to lie back down, to bring more warmth to his quivering body.

Smiling faintly, Leonard grabs Jim's hand, brushing blond curls from blue eyes.

"Hey kid." He greets gently.

Jim shakily meets the grin and tries to sit up, but he doesn't even make it an inch until he grunts and let's his body sink back down into the mattress.

"Ugh, it hurts." Jim grumbles, though Leonard supposes the kid's holding back most of the pain with that grimace on his face.

"Yeah, I know kid, I'm gonna grab a few things from medical."

He doesn't say 'take you to medical' because he knows it'll only cause more panic and uneasiness for the blond, and the last thing he needs is more stress at this moment.

Jim just nods, but the fearful gleam in his eyes betrays him.

Is the kid afraid of being alone?

Swallowing, Leonard lets the look slide by, he needs to get Jim to the hospital, he supposes he could get Jim to unlock his PADD and he can call them over, but the blond isn't dumb and would figure out what he's actually doing if he asked. So instead, he plans to walk over to medical and request a med team to Jim's room.

Leonard gives Jim a reassuring glance before opening the door and closing it behind himself, only to run straight into Francis.

The man is towering over him, and taking into account there was a fight between he and Jim, there doesn't seem to be a mark on him. Apparently he was right, Jim didn't fight back. But why?

"McCoy."

"Francis."

"Where are you going?" Francis demands, crossing his arms.

Leonard sighs, doesn't seem like Francis isn't going to let him through until he gets an answer, "I'm getting medical supplies for Jim. He needs them after you decided to beat the shit out of him."

Francis tries for a smirk, though it falls quickly, and Leonard notices the bags beneath the man's eyes, "He asked me to do it, practically begged on his hands and knees. So I gave it to him."

"Why would he do that?"

"I dunno, guess he's a masochist."

Leonard pauses, he could be right.

"Alright, well if you excuse me I must be going."

Francis steps in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Whoa, hey. Where are you going?"

"To medical."

Dumbass.

"I can't let you do that." Francis declares sternly.

Leonard frowns, "And why is that?"

"Because, if you go to medical, you're going to file a report and the blame will fall on me and I can't afford to be kicked out of the Academy."

"Well, it is your fault."

Francis glares him down.

"Okay, what if I don't tell them it was you?"

"They'll find out."

"No they wouldn't." He insists, but Francis raises an eyebrow at him.

"Have you seen Jim? They'll know. Especially since I've had a history of anger issues."

Leonard hums in thought, "It's alright, I'll sneak the drugs out. C'mon Francis, be a pal and let me through."

Francis shakes his head, "Sorry McCoy, I can't do that. I can't risk jeopardizing my education."

"You jeopardized it the moment you punched Jim!"

"He asked for it!" Francis insists.

"So apparently if someone asks to be punched you do it?"

"He said he was helping!"

"Punching the shit out of someone solves nothing! What the hell Francis!"

"Look I was just doing what Jim told me to do!"

"But that doesn't mean you should actually-"

Their yelling match is cut short when the door opens and Jim's pale face appears. Leonard and Francis both glance at him, and the guilt pits at their stomach.

"What are you guys arguing about? You're being a little loud…" Jim informs them weakly, gripping onto the door for balance, but his knees begin to wobble.

Leonard opens his mouth to reply when Jim's legs give out beneath him, and he and Francis manage to stoop under him and catch him before he falls.

Jim grips both of their shoulders tightly and blinks slowly to regain his vision.

"C'mon, bring him to the couch." Leonard tells Francis.

Francis gives a nod and the pair guides the blond to the couch, clearing a space through the garbage scattered about.

Jim whimpers as he's settled down on the cushions, his body fighting each movement.

"Francis, go grab some water and a blanket for me please." Leonard waves Francis off, who only gives a nod before scampering off to collect the listed things.

"Sorry, didn't mean to faint like a lil' girl." Jim sighs, wincing when a tremor races up his spine; Leonard smiles kindly down at the kid, "Its fine Jimbo. Just get some rest, I'm gonna fix you up."

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

Leonard pauses, his heart skipping a beat. Should he tell him that he knows that Jim didn't fight back? That he let himself be abused?

Francis is right, the kid's a masochist.

Instead he smirks, "I know kid, but it'll all be over soon."

Jim nods, satisfied with the answer.

Francis comes back into the room, a water bottle in one hand and a blanket thrown over his shoulder, "Here, McCoy."

"Thanks." Leonard takes the items from him and crouches beside the blond, "Try drinking some of this." He tells the kid after spreading the blanket over his body.

With a grunt Jim sits up and takes the bottle, taking a few sips before pushing it back Leonard's way.

Leonard supposes that's enough for now, he's gotta find a way to get Jim the needed medical supplies without Francis breathing down his neck. Though, who is he to think things would finally work out? Because they never do, they only get worse.

The knock on the door makes his heart lurch, and even Francis looks a bit nervous.

"I got it." Francis mumbles, making for the door.

He gazes down at Jim, feeling those blue eyes seep into his very soul. Without even looking, both of them already knew who had the audacity to show up at a time like this, because hell, everything revolves around her.

"Hey Francis." Hermione greets, sliding past the man as if he were nothing and slithering her way to the couch.

Jim flinches at the sound of her voice and subconsciously hides beneath the blanket.

Leonard nods at Jim.

He'll handle her.

Standing, he meets Hermione before she gets a look at Jim, "Hermione." His smile is as fake as his politeness at this point.

"Leonard." She greets back, blinking at him, not daring to address the elephant in the room, "What are you doing here?"

"Just ya'know, taking care of the mess you left behind." He spits out harshly, blocking her view of Jim.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione replies, crossing her arms and giving him a look, Leonard would've laughed at her if he wasn't so furious.

"Here, lemme put this the nicest way I possibly can. Hermione, either get your ass out of this room or I'll personally take pleasure in shoving my foot up it."

Hermione gasps, clearly flustered, "Leonard please, don't be such an ass."

"Hey, nobody insults Bones but me." Jim's suddenly getting to his shaky feet, though he hides his weakness by leaning casually onto Leonard's shoulder.

"James, darling, you look ill, why don't you sit down and I'll cook up some breakfast." Hermione says sweetly.

Leonard sees the indecision flicker in Jim's eyes as he debates his options.

Ultimately, the kid shakes his head, "No, Hermione we're done, we're through, now please leave before my friend takes away what little dignity you have left."

"James are you dumping?" Hermione asks, a quiver in her lips, though Leonard supposes she's just trying to earn Jim's sympathy.

"Hermione-" Jim's voice falters, though Leonard steps in, he has to be strong for Jim, "Yes, Hermione, he's dumping you, now leave, before I fulfill my foot's destiny."

"After all of this James, how could you do this to me? I thought I could trust you." Hermione snaps, turning to storm out of the room, but Jim reaches forward, snagging her arm, "Hermione, please." The blond whispers, though what he hopes for Leonard doesn't know.

"You should've died on that ship with your father. That way he wouldn't have such an embarrassment of a son."

Leonard has never seen such hurt or pain hit Jim all at once before.

Hermione then stomps out of the room and they're all left staring in shock.

Leonard's snapped from his daze when Jim falls to the floor, sitting and staring after the footprints of Hermione and all of her charm and wit. A piece of the kid's soul is torn within that moment, to flutter away with all the rest.

Sighing, Leonard crouches down, wrapping his arms around Jim's chest and heaving him to his feet; the kid is unresponsive, simply leaning into Leonard's warmth.

He brings the kid back to the couch, Francis hovering over his shoulder.

Jim is compliant, which unnerves Leonard slightly. The blond drinks the water he's given and attempts to eat the food that's handed over, he even goes to sleep when Leonard tells him to.

It's when Jim's asleep Leonard turns to Francis, who has been silently watching this entire time.

"Do you see why I need to get him some medicine? His fever is way too high, he can barely eat or drink, and don't get me started on all the bruises."

Francis huffs, "I still can't risk it. Look, I can send Finnegan to go get something for him, but I can't let you go anywhere until I know for sure that I won't get in trouble for this."

"Francis, I won't tell anyone, I can get in and out easy, I work there."

"Jim needs you here."

Leonard casts a side glance to where Jim sleeps; eyes squeezed shut and hands clutching the blanket in tight fists.

"Yeah, and he also needs me to take care of him, I can't do that if you won't let me go." Leonard argues, though Francis doesn't budge, "Sorry McCoy, you both stay here until he's better."

"That can takes days! Maybe even weeks before that happens! We have classes to go to!"

"Today's Friday, I have the day off since my mother passed away, though I suppose it won't hurt for you guys to miss one day. I'll let you guys go Monday, but until then you guys stay here."

Leonard swallows and nods his head slowly, "Alright, Monday."

Leaving Francis, he sits on the edge of the couch, stroking the blond hair from Jim's forehead. Three days, they have to survive three days. How hard can it be?

 **Author's Note: Finally, Hermione is gone, phew, she was a train wreck from the beginning, though, she is a Rand so I guess we'll have to wait and see what Professor Rand thinks of all of this if she finds out. So, thanks guys for all the reviews from the last chapter, I really needed that after those gloomy chapters, unfortunately our boys aren't out of the woods yet, but I'm sure they'll make it out okay, ish. Also, just know I'm trying my best with these updates but these next couple weeks are going to be very busy for me so we'll see how that plays out. Anyways, thanks guys for the love and support, I'd be nowhere without you. With that, I'll let you guys go, cya at the next chapter. Live Long and Prosper.**


	17. Chapter 17

**"This isn't what I want, but I'll take the high road. Maybe it's because I look at everything as a lesson or because I don't want to walk around angry. Or maybe it's because I finally understand, there are things we don't want to happen but have to accept. Things we don't want to know, but have to learn. People we can't live without, but have to let go."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 17**

He wakes to a cold ache in his bones, his limbs to heavy to move, and his whole body shivering. Blindly he reaches a hand up to his face to remove whatever is covering his eyes, but his hand is caught by the wrist and brought back down to his side.

He moans a complaint, using his other hand instead, but a voice stops him.

"Jim, leave it alone kid."

The voice is soothing and kind, so he listens to it, letting his arm fall back against his side. A hand strokes his hair and he lets the sensation settle his nerves.

He tries to move, move closer to the touch and maybe even feel the body beside him just to know he's not alone. But every muscle begins to scream in pain, ending with him whimpering and childishly reaching out to grab the person in front of him.

His reaching is met and held close to the other person's chest. He feels the steady beat of the person's heart, letting it set a pace for his own.

Then there's the soft voice again, "It's alright Jimbo, just go back to sleep."

"Bones?" He mumbles, feverish breath blowing from his lips.

"You're alright Jim, just sleep kid."

Jim falls asleep holding Bones' hand.

When he comes back to, it's to a world of fire. Everything burns, his muscles cramp and his stomach begins to spasm. The pain is overwhelming, and when he tries to move to ease it, it only causes more flaring hot pain to rush through his body.

Hands pull him up into a sitting position and a bucket is thrust between his knees. The cloth falls from his eyes, but he squeezes them shut and clamps onto the bucket with sweaty hands.

Dizziness and nausea overtake him.

Bile rises, burning his throat as he heaves it out in short gasps. Tears streak down his face, and his cheeks lose their pinch of red to be replaced by a deathly white.

He feels someone sit beside him, rubbing circles into his back with one hand, while the other grips his bicep tightly.

Jim takes a moment to breathe, before hunching over the bucket once more and depositing the contents of his stomach into it. By the time the nausea passes, he's worn and basically falling back over in sleep. But the hands catch him, taking the bucket from his legs and steering him gently down into oblivion.

He's grateful for that.

When his eyes open once more, there's no burning or ache within his body, he's at peace. He sits up slowly, noticing the fact he can see now. He's in his room, all alone, surrounded by richly covered walls and low lighting. He can actually breathe easily for once.

He's enjoying himself until she decides to make an appearance through the open doorway.

"Oh James, I'm glad you're okay." Hermione exclaims, throwing herself into his lap, planting sweet kisses all over his face.

Jim remains frozen, his mind buzzing with questions.

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione frowns, "What do you mean James?"

"We broke up."

"No we didn't." Hermione looks completely puzzled, her arms leaving his sides.

"But, we did. After the night Francis beat me up and you showed up. We broke up the next morning." Jim insists, squinting down at her.

The blonde gasps, "James, what are you talking about? That never happened." Hermione replies, taking his hands within her own.

"No it happened; I got the shit beat out of me!"

"James, look at yourself, does it look like you got in a fight?" Hermione smiles gently at him.

Jim takes the moment to glance down at his bare chest, finding no evidence of bruises, no evidence of Francis hitting him.

"James darling, you had a fever all through Friday and it broke overnight on Saturday morning."

"But-"

"Please, James, you're not making any sense." Hermione giggles lightly, placing a hand in his hair and drawing his lips to her own.

Jim lets her mouth into his own, his mind still utterly lost.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asks after they peel apart, "I, it…it's nothing, don't worry about it."

Maybe it was all just dream, a figment of his imagination.

Hermione smirks, "Well, in that case handsome, lemme show you a little something to worry about."

Jim let's her push him over, climb on top of him, planting kisses along his bare skin. Her tongue drawing along his chest, making him shiver. She grips his arms, nails digging into his flesh. He groans when she nips at his neck.

He panics when she straddles his hips.

He doesn't want this. He dumped her, it's over. Why is she here?

Jim tries to push her off, but he finds his arms useless beneath her piercing grip. He's back to being used, defenseless and weak.

He really is an embarrassment. Damn, he should've died on that ship with his father.

His breathing escalates with her pace, silent screams building within. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to detach himself from his body.

But turns out he doesn't need to, because he has a best friend.

"Jim!"

He's bundled up in a tangle of blankets, knees tight against his chest, hands tearing at blond hair, breathing restricted in his panicked haze. The burning feeling is back, and it's back with vengeance.

"It's just a dream kid. It's alright, she's not here, I promise." The southern drawl doesn't escape his ears.

"Bones…?"

"Yeah kid." Bones confirms, jumping onto the bed.

Bones' arms pull him over to cradle him, making him whimper with the sudden movement. The southerner slows down, gently easing Jim into his lap so he can wrap his arms around the blond's shivering frame.

Jim lets his head fall back onto Bones' shoulder, clutching at his stomach to hold down the nausea. He feels Bones' breath brush against his hair, strong arms holding him there, rocking him into peacefulness.

He sniffles but Bones merely hushes him, and Jim can only wonder if this is what it's like to have someone who actually cares about his wellbeing. He doesn't want to cry in front of Bones, but when it happens, it feels so damn good to cry into his shoulder, knowing that Bones will be there in the end.

The pain rises in his abdomen and Bones holds him tighter.

He feels his stomach churn, yearning to push it's fluids up his throat.

"…Bones." Jim groans and immediately Bones is grabbing a bucket from the floor and shoving it between his legs.

He grips the bucket, the fiery sensation rising up his throat. Helplessness overtakes him as his body expels the fluids from his mouth. When he thinks it passes, he only heaves more, tears running down his face. He's gasping for breath, nearly sobbing from the pain.

But Bones holds him steady, wiping up his mouth and placing the bucket onto the floor. The wet towel is then spread across his forehead, and he takes the moment to let himself calm down.

He sighs, sagging against the body behind him. His head is spinning and he can feel the feverish heat flood back into his cheeks.

"Think you can drink some of this?" Bones asks softly, leaning over his shoulder and prompting a bottle to his dry lips.

Jim nods; anything for Bones.

Shakily he grasps the sides of the bottle, Bones' hand gently guiding it from the bottom. He takes a small sip, letting the coolness of the water soothe his throat.

When he coughs, Bones pulls the bottle away, setting it aside for later.

He coughs into his shirt, Bones' hand rubbing his arm.

"What time is it?" He asks tiredly, closing his burning eyes.

"Five ish."

Jim frowns, "What day?"

"Friday."

Shit, it hasn't even been a day. If this is just the beginning, he can't even imagine what it's going to feel like in a couple hours. Whatever is happening to his body, it feels like hell got a fever.

His eyes begin to slip shut, Bones still holding him.

"It's alright kid, just sleep."

So he does, in the blackness of dreamless space, longing for the absent stars. Though his mind rests, his body fights within itself, infections spreading through the bloodstream, bringing a storm of sickness upon his weakened body.

He groans, tossing his head to the side. He's too tired to open his eyes and the pain through his muscles and bones hasn't left. The towel's back over his face, a futile attempt at keeping his body temperature a few degrees lower. The twisting anguish in his gut has only gotten worse, constricting his breathing, making it short and wheezy.

Jim lifts a heavy hand and swipes the cloth from his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear his vision, but it's only to a darkened room. To his right, Bones has pulled up a chair, sleeping peacefully.

He can only imagine how little sleep Bones has gotten since he's shown up.

Sighing, Jim turns, painfully, and sluggishly, onto his side, facing away from Bones. His ribs begin to scream in protest, but there's little motivation left to make himself more comfortable. He wraps his arms around his torso, annoyed that the blanket draped over him provides little to no warmth, and he feels like someone turned down the temperature in the room.

Jim tries to go back to sleep, but the ache only grows, to the point where he begins to shiver constantly and sweat. He feels the moisture gathering on his skin, but he only feels cold, so he pulls tighter, hoping to bring his body temperature up. But the tighter he becomes the more restricted his breathing is, leaving him dizzy and breathless.

The pain escalates to the point where all he can do is squeeze his eyes and hold his legs close, wishing that the pulsing throb would only stop.

Tears start to leak from his eyes, dropping silently onto the mattress, though he barely notices through the sharp gasps of breath.

He just wishes he was dead. For this pain to be gone, for all of this to be over. But there's a small part in his brain that tells him that he deserves this, that dying would be merciful, and that's something he doesn't deserve.

Suddenly, there's a coolness seeping into the skin of his forehead, a murmur above his head, and hands rolling him onto his back. The hands then begin to uncurl his body, forcing his legs down and his arms to let go of his stomach.

He whines, wanting to protect himself from the invader, but he's too weak to do anything but whimper.

The bed dips beside him, and then he's being pulled and maneuvered onto someone's lap. He feels his tears wiped away and water pouring into his mouth. Greedily he swallows, his throat feeling like claws running down it with each gulp.

When the water stops, he's left wheezing for breath. Panic builds as he realizes he can't breathe.

But then there's the soft murmur above his head again and the hands touching his hair.

Panting, Jim pries his eyes open, finding Bones' face looming above him, Bones has him lying in his lap, head resting in the crook of the southerner's arm like a small child.

Damn, he must be sick, very sick for Bones to do this.

He tries to ask what's wrong, but Bones merely hushes him and draws him closer.

Jim's eyes begin to fall, but he's afraid the darkness creeping into his vision, so he fights it, gripping onto Bones' shirt to ground himself once more. But he's losing the fight, energy is draining from him and the lights are dimming.

Then, he hears Bones' voice and suddenly he's not too afraid of the dark, because he's not alone.

 **Author's Note: Sounds like Jim's pretty close to dying…well he ain't dying because we all know how this story will end, with he and Bones going onto the Enterprise, but that doesn't mean I can't rip your guys' hearts out and stomp on them a little. So, I know this chapter is pretty short, but there's not much to be done from Jim's POV right now, but hopefully good ol' Bones will get him fixed up like he always does. And like I've said before, these whumpy chapters are getting this story to the bigger chapter, which I can't wait to write so I can make all of you cry. You might be able to tell how this is going to end if you pick up on any of the clues, probably not in this chapter but the next. Well, thanks guys for the reviews they're such a blessing after working hard on this story, means the world to me. Also, just want to give ghostbeach a heads up, that I would have messaged you but you must have your account blocking private messages. Anyways, thanks again for everything guys, I'll stop ranting here. Live Long and Prosper.**


	18. Chapter 18

**"Every minute feels like an hour, every hour feels like a day, every day feels like forever, but I will wait forever and a day for you."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 18**

Just a little longer, all they have to do is hold out a little longer. Twenty minutes ago Jim began to convulse and cry, fifteen minutes ago Leonard sent Finnegan to get the needed drugs to help Jim, he can only pray that it isn't too late.

He holds Jim securely in his lap, feeling utterly useless.

Jim's kicking and squirming in the sheets. The blond has sweat through the blankets, and the room smells heavily of vomit.

"Bones, please make it stop." Jim begs, eyes clamped shut, breathing as ragged as his blond hair.

Leonard glances down at him sorrowfully, and how he wishes it had never come to this, "I will, just hold on a little longer."

The kid shakes his head, "I just want it over now, please Bones."

Bones sniffs, the kid's been begging for him to end it, though by now Leonard's not sure if Jim's asking for him to make the pain stop, or end forever.

"Jim, please, calm down. You're doing great."

Jim whimpers, though Leonard supposes he meant to snort sarcastically.

"Help's on the way now, all you have to do is wait a little longer."

The blond shudders in his lap, suddenly seizing upright and retching down the side of the bed. Leonard draws him back, feeling the bed vibrate with Jim's shivering.

"Okay kid, alright, come here."

Leonard brings Jim's head up onto his shoulder, one hand stroking the blond hairs and the other grabbing the kid's bicep. He feels Jim's breath blow against his neck, clammy hands grasping his shirt. In any other situation Leonard would've thrown a punch into the kid's noggin and told the blond he was drunk, and he, Leonard McCoy, isn't gay. But with Jim fighting for each breath, vomiting every couple minutes, and shivering up an earthquake, Leonard can only feel sorry for the kid.

Though after this ordeal, they're going to have a serious talk. Maybe a few shouts, punches, and beer bottles, but in the end, everything will be back to normal. Whatever the hell 'normal' is for them.

"I'm sorry Bones." Jim coughs weakly, "No need to apologize yet kid, wait until you feel better."

"But Bones…"

"Jim please, let's just get through this, before we open Pandora's Box alright?"

Jim nods against his chest slowly.

"Alright then." Leonard sighs, uncoiling the sweaty strands of hair between his fingers.

The blond's eyes fall shut, breath evening out. There's a part of Leonard that wants to shake him awake, to make sure that he's still breathing, still alive. Leonard can only guess the kid's gotten sepsis or some other form of infection through the eternal bleeding from all the bruising. Either way, given with a few days Jim could die. So it's time to skip Death's doormat and get the kid what he needs: some antibiotics.

It's not much longer until Francis enters the room, somewhat cautiously peering around the lip of the door before stepping fully inside.

"How's he doing?"

If he didn't know any better, he'd thought Francis actually cared.

"I…" He finds himself at a loss for words.

Leonard gazes down, gripping Jim tightly within his arms. What he has here is so real, yet so out of touch with the rest of the world.

He sighs, reaching for Francis' stare, "He's fine for now." Leonard finally says unsurely, dropping the attempt at eye contact, Francis has been glaring the floor the entire time, as if he were too ashamed to actually look at the mess he has caused.

"That's good. Uhh, Finnegan shouldn't be too much longer." Francis tries to bring a hopeful smile, but his lips only twitch.

"Alright, thanks." Leonard ends the conversation short, feeling Jim shift in his light slumber.

Francis nods knowingly and disappears, the door shutting quietly after him.

His eyes fall back down to Jim, the mess of blond hairs tucked against his chin, the shiver against his side, the whimper against his chest. All of this is Jim, and he's not sure how much longer he can bear to see the usually enthusiastic blond this way. He knows Jim tends to gets a bump here and there every once in awhile, it's in his nature to run head first into trouble, but this, this is far beyond anything the kid has gotten them tangled into.

This also brings too many questions and answers he's not sure Jim's willing to give. Like why the hell he let Francis beat him up, or why he's been letting himself be abused by Hermione. Better questions concern Jim's self loathing, the way he beats himself down, the way he pushes away his own needs for someone else, the way he hides himself from people. The blond yearns for the thrill of adventure, but Leonard can't help but wonder if there's something he's searching for in that.

"B-Bones?"

Leonard blinks, eyes snapping to bright feverish blue eyes. He hadn't noticed that Jim had awakened.

"You okay kid?"

Jim's body shudders against his. Blue eyes squeezing shut, protesting the rising pain, "I can't do this anymore."

Leonard opens his mouth to speak, but instead he remains silent, waiting for Jim to continue.

"I-I don't want t-to stay here."

He frowns, looking down at Jim, seeing tears glistening within his eyes.

Whatever Jim has decided, mulling it over has gotten him worked up. But then again the kid's been overly emotional the past few days, though no one can blame him.

"Where do you want to go?" He prompts, feeling Jim's forehead to determine how high his fever is, the kid might be delirious.

"I…" The words die on the blond's lips.

Leonard waits a few moments, to see if Jim will reply, but glancing down, Jim's eyes have clamped shut, his body becoming slack within his arms.

"Hey, what's wrong kid?" Leonard asks, maneuvering Jim off of his lap to lay him flat against the mattress.

The blond groans, but doesn't make any other responses.

He takes the kid's pulse. It's beating slowly beneath his fingertips. Taking into account Jim is an athlete, and his pulse can be around the fifties, or even the forties at resting, but for his current situation, his pulse should be much higher, and not slowing down.

"Leonard!" Sulu's voice reaches his ears.

He snaps up, finding Sulu and Chekov standing in the doorway.

"What happened?" The redhead exclaims, rushing forward.

"It's a long story." Leonard breathes, clearly exasperated.

Francis appears behind them, "They insisted they see you guys." He explains sheepishly, Leonard merely waves him off.

"Care to help?"

They both nod.

"Alright, here get this soaked with cold water," Leonard hands the now dry towel to Chekov, then handing Sulu the bucket, "Find a way to clean this. Or just throw it out and find a new one, either way this place reeks and I'm starting to feel nauseous myself."

Sulu wrinkles his nose, but nonetheless does as he's told.

Chekov comes back first, a wet rag in hand.

"Thanks." Leonard takes the towel, placing it on the kid's burning forehead.

"How long has this been going on?" Chekov inquires curiously, eyes fixated on Jim's paled face.

"Since Thursday night. After you told us what happened." Leonard explains, his gaze never leaving Jim.

Chekov nods, "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"I'm afraid not, we have to wait until Finnegan comes back."

As if on que, Finnegan bursts into the room, quite breathless, Francis gaping behind him, "I brought them with me; I'm sorry Francis I really am."

Leonard frowns, "What's going on Finnegan? Did you get the antibiotics?"

"I got something better…" Finnegan pants, then turns his head to gesture something over, "Over here guys."

Three medics slip through, dressed in their scrubs with a stretcher between them, and Leonard can't even begin to describe the relief rushing into his veins.

One medic readies the stretcher while the other two appear at Jim's side, assessing the damage.

"We need you to let go cadet." A female nurse says kindly, prying his hand from Jim's.

Leonard opens his mouth, but finds no words leaving. There are so many things he needs to tell them, about Jim's injuries and the long list of allergies.

"Cadet, what's your name?"

"McCoy." He breathes, his voice sounding detached.

"Alright McCoy, I'm Nurse Chapel, we're going to take good care of Jim."

Nurse Chapel. He's heard that name before. She's the one who worked the bone knitter on Jim during their first week of school.

"He's allergic-"

"I know Cadet McCoy, don't worry, just tell me what you know." Chapel insists, though Leonard mind racks for the answers, his eyes watch as Jim's lifted from the bed and placed onto the stretcher rather carefully.

"He got into a fight Thursday night causing abdominal bruising…and he's uh, he's had low blood pressure, high fever, and has been experiencing headaches and nausea in the past twenty-four hours. I believe he's developed sepsis but of course I can't be certain until there are some tests run."

Chapel nods at him, "Thank you cadet." She pats his arm, then turning to the other medics to give them their orders.

Leonard follows them, along with Chekov, Sulu, who has come back from wherever the hell he went to clean the bucket, Francis, and Finnegan.

"I can't believe you brought them!" Francis hisses at Finnegan, arms crossed, "I had no other choice. I may be an asshole from time to time, but I'm not a murderer. Jimmy needs help." Finnegan snaps, pointing an accusing finger at Francis as they trail slowly behind the rest of them.

The group halts at the elevator, Nurse Chapel telling them to use the stairs while the team uses it.

Leonard nods and signals them to follow him down the stairs.

"I can't believe this is happening." Sulu mutters absently, "Will Jim be okay?" Chekov pipes up, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sulu slings an arm around his roommate, "Yeah, Pav, Jim's gonna be okay. Leonard took good care of him."

Leonard tries for an appreciative smile, but his mind keeps wondering to Jim, longing to be at his side, holding his hand like he should have done when Jim had his ribs repaired the first time.

They make it to the bottom of the stairs, seeing that the medical team is now loading Jim into an ambulance. The group walks out and Leonard heads for the stretcher.

"Cadet McCoy, would you like to ride with us?" Nurse Chapel asks after they've properly prepped Jim for transport.

He nods and Chapel gives him a warm smile before helping him climb inside to sit beside Jim. The kid looks like he's met Death itself by now.

The rest of the group stands awkwardly outside.

"We'll meet you at medical." Sulu informs him, his arm still slung around Chekov.

"Alright." Leonard replies, and then the doors are closed and they start off towards the Medbay.

Luckily, Jim remains unconscious for the next twenty minutes, as the medical team rushes him side, hooking him up with IV and dosing him with some antibiotics to fight off the growing infection. As they get him into the OR for surgery, since he does have eternal bleeding, he wakes up, but it's to see nurses and doctors hovering above him.

"Bones?" Jim calls weakly, maybe even a bit frantically.

Leonard makes a spot for himself, grabbing Jim's hand tightly, "Don't worry kid, they're gonna take care of you, alright? Trust them, behave yourself."

"Cadet McCoy, I'm sorry but you'll have to stop here." Doctor M'Benga approaches, already dressed down in scrubs, gloves snapping onto his hands.

Leonard nods knowingly, glancing at Jim as they place a breathing mask over his face, "You'll be fine Jim." He let's go of the blond's hand, watching miserably as they whisk him away towards surgery.

"We'll take good care of him Leonard, don't you worry." M'Benga tells him gently, "I know." He breathes, and stands back as they disappear within the halls of the OR.

He swallows and glances down, blinking several times to gain control of himself once more.

Jim's going to be okay, he has to be. He's in good hands now, there's no need for him to worry anymore. But what if Jim did die in his arms? What if Finnegan didn't bring help, would Leonard have been able to save him? What would he do without Jim?

"Cadet McCoy?"

He turns around sharply and nearly falters, "Captain Pike, sir. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I didn't expect to be here either. I was notified of Cadet Kirk's condition." The captain explains, coming beside him.

Leonard notices the worry etched into the man's voice.

"He'll pull through." Leonard states firmly, finding his eyes gazing at the door of which Jim had disappeared through.

Captain Pike grins, "Yes, yes he will. He's a tough kid. It's in his blood." The captain sighs, taking a pause, "Care to explain what exactly happened?"

"I don't think that's for me to say, with all due respect sir." Leonard turns to meet Pike's unwavering gaze, "And why is that cadet?"

"Well, Kirk, he uhh, he likes his privacy, sir." Leonard says all too knowingly.

"That sounds about right. But, unfortunately I don't give a damn about his privacy; I expect a full report by o'eight hundred tomorrow morning. As well from Francis Donovan and Jake Finnegan."

"Yes sir." Leonard replies, "Good, now take care of the boy." Pike pats him on the shoulder and strolls down the hall, his shoes clapping against the tiled floors.

He blows a long sigh, shoulders slumping.

He's left standing for another minute before a nurse comes and takes him to the waiting room, and there he finds the rest of the group.

Finnegan is slouched in his chair, flipping mindlessly through a magazine, Sulu is hunched over in thought, Chekov is huddled in his chair, arms wrapped around his legs, and Francis is pacing back and forth incessantly. Leonard clears his throat to make his presence known, everyone but Finnegan looks up at him.

"How is he?" They all ask simultaneously.

"He's in surgery now, but he's in good hands." Leonard replies, finding his voice rather quiet despite the fact he's trying to sound confident.

Sulu just lets his head fall back into his awaiting hands and Francis goes back to pacing.

"Francis c'mon, you knew I had to." Finnegan grumbles, rolling his eyes, "You should've told me first." Francis growls, not even sparing Finnegan a glance.

"Look, I hate the little brat, but not enough to watch him die." Finnegan responds stiffly, "Should have told me." Francis repeats.

Leonard just takes a seat beside Chekov, trying for a reassuring smile, but he himself feels uneasy.

"Okay, I'm sorry about your mom Francis, but really you shouldn't have done that to Jim."

"He asked for it!"

"Yeah, I know. I was there!"

"Yeah, then why didn't you stop me?"

Finnegan shrugs, "Like I said, don't like him much anyways."

Francis groans, rubbing his face, "Okay, this doesn't mean anything. They can't kick me out. They don't know anything."

"Actually, Captain Pike wants a report from the three of us by o'eight hundred Saturday." Leonard speaks up, glancing between Finnegan and Francis.

"Shit, now you're screwed." Finnegan chuckles lightly and Francis gives him a glare, "That doesn't mean we have to tell him the whole truth."

"It kinda does." Leonard tells him.

"I can't be kicked out of the academy. I just can't." Francis sighs, tearing at his hair.

Leonard gets to his feet, placing a hand on Francis' shoulder, but he merely snags away, "Look Francis, I'm sure there's a way to fix this."

"You don't understand McCoy, I can't go back. They're just going to throw me back into anger management."

"Ha! Maybe that'll actually do you some good." Finnegan jeers at him, causing Francis to clench his fists, "Hey-hey, kidding! Just kidding!" Finnegan raises his hands in surrender.

"Francis, trust me, we'll figure out something." Leonard insists, despite the fact he actually hopes Francis gets kicked out. The bastard beat up Jim for no reason, other than to ease the loss of his mother.

"Can you guys just sit down already? There's nothing to be done right now." Sulu grumbles, hair ragged from restless pulling.

"Yeah, sorry Sulu."

Leonard plops back down beside Chekov, and Francis finally takes a seat, secluded in the corner by himself. The tension continues for hours, no one daring to speak a word as they wait for Jim to pull through surgery. But as the mindless hours tick by, they become more restless. Even some nurses suggests that they go back to their dorms and get some sleep, but they all refuse, even Finnegan surprisingly.

Leonard is still skeptical of Finnegan's reasons for hanging around. They all know he hates Jim more than Francis, yet he seems genuinely more concerned for the blond than his own roommate. He supposes maybe Finnegan just wants him around so he can pick on him in the halls and during class, or maybe they've bonded somehow in way Jim Kirk is only capable of doing, wouldn't surprise Leonard much by now, the kid's already done the impossible.

"How much longer do you think this will take?" Chekov asks no one in particular, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Well considering the fact they're trying to stop all the damage Francis caused…it could take a few more hours." Leonard replies, his voice full of venom.

Francis glances his way, eyes narrowed, "Like I said before, he wanted me to do it. This can't all be my fault."

"You should have let me take him here in the first place before his condition deteriorated!"

"I couldn't risk my career for his sake."

"Selfish bastard." Leonard mutters, and Francis shakes his head exasperated.

"Enough, Sulu was right the first time." Finnegan snaps, but Leonard isn't quite cooled off yet, "Why are you here anyways?"

"Because despite the fact you think I'm a self-centered asshole, I don't want to see Jim die." Finnegan responds dryly, heaving a sigh.

"You beat him up on the daily." Francis retorts.

Finnegan grins sheepishly, "Brotherly love."

"Is that what it's called now?" Leonard snorts.

"Alright, fine I guess Jimmy and I don't always see eye to eye, but I still watch over him, make sure no one else beats him up but me. Or the occasional Francis or Arendse."

"I'm pretty sure Arendse tried to kill him the first week of school." Sulu announces, recalling their party night at the city, Chekov nods his agreement.

"Ehh, a little misunderstanding, that's all." Finnegan chides carelessly with a wave of his hand.

"Misunderstanding." Leonard grumbles, crossing his arms.

The room falls silent once more and their left alone with their thoughts for a couple more hours into the early hours of Saturday morning.

"Cadet McCoy." Doctor M'Benga steps through the double doors, looking clearly exhausted, yet hopeful.

Everyone breathes a sigh and gets to their feet.

"That's me." Leonard says, walking over, everyone else a few paces behind.

M'Benga raises an eyebrow at the group, "I guess, you're all welcome to come I suppose."

"That's fine." Leonard replies, giving a nod to the others behind him.

Doctor M'Benga takes them inside, "Cadet Kirk's condition is fragile, but holding for now. We've been able to stop all eternal bleeding and have removed the damaged tissue. He's been put on an IV line and has been intubated, but hopefully once he wakes we'll let him breathe on his own. We haven't repaired the fractured ribs, which I remind you were repaired several months back so the recovery time will be slower. We're planning on bringing the bone knitter in Sunday, and if we have to, we'll give him till Monday to rest up. Currently he's under heavy sedation and pain killers so he won't be waking up anytime soon."

They're taken into Jim's room.

Leonard holds his breath as he steps inside, seeing Jim's face as white as the walls around him. His golden hair creates quite a contrast against his pale face and his usually moving body is still, almost lifeless.

"I'll leave you guys here for a few minutes, then one of the nurses will escort you out and you will be allowed to return during visiting hours." M'Benga informs them, giving a little smile before departing.

They all turn to Jim, Leonard the only one daring to come to his bedside. His heart aches to grab his hand, but he doesn't, he merely looks down at Jim Kirk.

"See, he's not too bad, he'll be back to normal in no time." Finnegan announces, but nobody offers him their attention.

"I'm so screwed." Francis breathes, walking away to lean against the wall.

"He's going to be okay, you know that Leonard?" Sulu places a hand on his shoulder, causing his gaze to tear away from Jim's face, "Yeah, I know."

"But do you believe it?" Sulu prompts.

Leonard's eyes fall back Jim, watching as the tube forces oxygen into his lungs and the IV pushes fluids into his body. Jim's heartbeat rings in his ears and he can't seem to stop thinking about Jim's pathetic pleas for it all to be over.

"Leonard." Sulu nudges him, and he snaps back to the present, "Yes, I believe it."

They stand around Jim's bed in silence until Nurse Chapel makes her appearance, "Gentlemen, I'm sorry but you're going to have to leave."

They nod tiredly, all turning away to leave, except Leonard whose attention is still glued onto Jim.

"Cadet McCoy." Chapel hums gently.

"Oh, sorry nurse, of course, on my way." Leonard gives Jim's hand a quick little squeeze before hurrying out the door to follow the others.

He can only hope that after all of this, their friendship will survive.

 **Author's Note: Hey guys hope you've enjoyed another chapter, which this one I find quite odd. Enemies and friends coming together for all different reasons, but in the end, it's all for Jim? I feel like through this chapter Finnegan and Francis really develop their personalities and their views of Jim so I thought it'd be nice to hear a little from them. Also I loved the fact I brought Sulu and Chekov back into the mix. They've been missing out on all the action lately! So I hope you guys liked it and stick around for the next chapter.**

 **Oh, almost forgot, any of you read "Sit and Watch"? I know, completely random, but it was stuck in my head. I've decided to make that my writer's block stories, so if any of you want to shoot me a writing prompt I'll post it there.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading! Live Long and Prosper.**


	19. Chapter 19

**"The worst type of crying is the silent one. The one when everyone is asleep. The one where you feel it in your throat, and your eyes become blurry from the tears. The one where you just want to scream. The one where you have to hold your breath and grab your stomach to keep quiet. The one when you realize the person that meant most to you, is gone."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 19**

His heart followed the thrumming beat. His ears slowly crackle to life and his mouth parts to let a groan escape. The world around him bursts to life the moment he opens his eyes, blinking blankly a few times to comprehend the fact he's staring up at a white ceiling.

"Hey Jimbo."

He turns his head, finding the source of the voice to be the one and only, Leonard McCoy, with a gentle smile gracing his lips, but not quite reaching his eyes.

"Bones?"

The noise that comes out is nowhere near the name he tried to pronounce, due to the tube running down his throat. He tries to raise a hand to yank it out, but his arm refuses to move.

"Jim, don't." Bones gets up from his chair, standing beside him.

He frowns, and then looks down at his hands, they've been held back with medical restraints. His heart begins to thump faster.

"Hey, hey it's okay Jim, it's alright. I'll take them off, calm down kid." Bones soothes, then, as he said, he begins to undo the buckles around his wrists and ankles.

"That better kid?"

Jim nods.

"They put them on because you kept moving around last night and they were afraid you might knock out a rib." Bones explains, sitting back down.

He stares at his friend, blinking owlishly. He can't seem to recall anything from the past twenty-four hours, but he's just glad Bones is here.

"It's Sunday now. You came in around midnight Saturday for surgery. Doctor M'Benga wants to perform the bone knitter this afternoon, of course you'll be knocked out for that, it's going to be pretty painful…" Bones trails off in thought.

Jim wonders if he's going to ask the question he doesn't want to hear. But Bones doesn't ask, he simply carries on, "They're hoping to get you out of here by Wednesday but there's no guarantees, you might be here for a full week."

He gapes. A whole week. A whole week in a hospital, surrounded by doctors, nurses, needles, and machines? No way in hell, he's getting out of here as soon as possible.

Bones cringes. He must've seen his stress readouts on the bio bed.

"Look, I'll see what I can do to get you out of here. But this is going to take time Jim. This isn't just like one of your normal brawls. This was serious. You could've died."

There it is, the hint of anger in Bones' voice.

He wants to apologize, but he physically can't, so he saves it for later.

"So, sit tight for now. It's only about noon right now. Doctor M'Benga should come by in a few hours to see how you're doing-also, I'll find a nurse to take the tube out, must be killing you right now."

Jim gives him a glare. They both very well know Bones is capable of doing it himself.

"I don't want to get in trouble!" Bones exclaims, clearly reading his expression.

He pleads with his eyes and it's enough to get Bones to sigh and come beside him, "Alright, but if I get in trouble it's your fault."

Bones raises the bed a bit higher before grasping his chin and tilting it up ever so slightly, "Alright, cough on three."

He nods.

"One, two, three."

He coughs and the tube is pulled from his mouth, leaving him to gag further.

"Here, drink this kid." Bones hands him a cup of water and he takes it with both hands graciously, "Slow down there."

The water rushing down his throat washes away the dryness, relieving the soreness.

Bones sets the cup and down and collapses back into the chair, rubbing a hand over his face, "Bones." God his voice is so scratchy.

The southerner tries for a smile.

"Thanks."

Bones nods, eyes falling shut, "No problem Jim."

They sit in comfortable silence, Jim lingering in and out of consciousness, but all the while Bones remains by his side, always giving him reassuring smiles.

Around two in the afternoon, Doctor M'Benga makes his appearance; scoffing at the fact Bones had extubated him without authority. Bones had just grinned sheepishly and shrugged at the matter, Jim had insisted.

Jim was shortly after prepped for the bone knitter procedure, and just like before, Nurse Chapel was running the whole thing.

"Any last words Mister Kirk, before I put you under?" Chapel prompts jokingly, the breathing mask in her hand.

Jim grins, turning his head to look at Bones, "Make sure I wake up in one piece?"

Bones smiles, "Of course kid. See ya when you wake up."

Jim nods and allows the mask to be placed over his face. Within mere seconds, he welcomes the comfort of the darkness, his mind drifting away into dreamless sleep.

It's not until Monday morning Jim wakes up.

"Cadet Kirk."

He jolts up, wincing slightly at the newly repaired ribs, though Doctor M'Benga said the soreness won't leave for a couple days.

Jim glances to the side, finding Captain Pike sitting rather professionally in the chair that Bones had once occupied.

"Captain Pike, sir." He tries to sit up straighter, but Pike shakes his head, "At ease cadet, I just came here to discuss a few matters with you."

He lets his body relax back down, waiting for the captain to continue.

"Firstly, I had cadets, McCoy, Donovan, and Finnegan write up reports of Thursday night. Each of them came back with a similar story, but I suspected it'd be best to hear it from you."

"Well, that's logical." Jim mutters, meeting Pike's gaze.

"Care to explain yourself cadet?"

Jim shrugs, "Didn't get enough details out of three reports? Pretty sure I'd just be repeating the same story."

"Cadet Kirk, this isn't an option."

Seeing no way out, Jim huffs and scratches his hair with the hand that doesn't have a damn catheter attached to it.

"Bo-Cadet McCoy and I had lunch in the city before returning to campus on Thursday. When we were making our way to my dorms Cadet Chekov ran to us and said that Cadet Donovan's mother had died…I felt like I could help, so I ran to the dorm room and helped Cadet Donovan."

Pike smirks at him, "And how did you exactly 'help' the cadet?"

"I told him to hit me."

"Why?"

"Because sometimes you just got to punch the anger out, sir."

Captain Pike sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, "What happened afterwards?"

"Cadet Finnegan threw me in the shower and…well things get a bit fuzzy there. But next thing I know Cadet McCoy is in the room with me and trying to help me."

Pike nods, "Seems to be the same story."

Jim grins, "Of course, because that's what happened."

"There's just one problem, cadet."

He swallows.

"I didn't get three reports, I got four. Care to guess the fourth one?"

He already knows before the dreaded name is uttered.

"Hermione Rand."

"Shit." Jim can't help but let his head fall into his hands, whether out of embarrassment or fear of whats to come next.

Pike lets a moment slip by, "Look Kirk, she gave, well, probably the most detailed report out of all of you. She said she came to see you that night, but you weren't well so she got Cadet McCoy. Now, McCoy did not mention this, can you recall her being there that night?"

Definitely, she was definitely there that night. He can still see the images, still hear the noises, still feel the pain. She was there alright, but he isn't about tell Captain Pike that he's been having sex with one of the professor's daughters.

"No sir, I don't seem to recall."

Pike frowns, still staring questioningly at him, "That's alright, Doctor M'Benga confirmed a slight concussion from that night."

The captain stands up, smoothing out his suit carefully, "Thank you Cadet Kirk, your report will be taken under consideration."

"Consideration for what, sir?"

Pike nearly falters, "Forgot to tell you, Cadet Donovan is under review by the Academy Board. Chances are, he's getting removed and sent back into counseling."

"Wait, sir." Jim pipes up before Pike has the chance to leave, "I'd like to speak on his behalf, sir."

Captain Pike stares at suspiciously, "And why is that cadet? McCoy seemed very adamant about getting him removed."

"Because sir, it was all my fault and I'd like to explain that to the Board, sir."

Pike's eyes narrow down at him, but finally giving in, he sighs, "Very well, I'll inform them of your request."

The moment Captain Pike disappears from the doorway, Bones takes his place, his brown eyes following Pike's exit before settling on Jim. His best friend pulls the chair over closer to the bed before plopping down and breathing a sigh.

Jim makes for a smile, "Hey Bones."

"What was that about?" Bones asks instead.

How much did he hear?

"Captain Pike was getting my side of the story."

"Yeah I know. I'm asking about your request to argue on Francis' behalf." Bones states blandly, arms crossing and Jim can feel a reprimanding on its way.

"Because, it's the right thing to do."

"Was letting yourself get your ass handed to you, the 'right thing to do'?" Bones retorts.

Jim rolls his eyes, "Bones, I've already told you, I was just trying to help."

"Yeah, whatever you damn masochist."

Jim's brows furrow, "What did you just call me?"

"A masochist."

He gapes, "What the hell Bones? You sadistic bastard, why would you think that?"

Bones smirks, "Because I'm right. I can prove it."

Jim almost shrinks away. He doesn't need the proof shoved in his face, he already knows it. He already knows how he loves the pain, the feeling of being helpless and out of control, the feeling of Death's presence around him. But that doesn't mean he wants Bones throwing it all over the place.

"Yeah, and I can prove that you don't know what personal boundaries are but I don't go around rubbing it in your damn face."

The southerner's grin widens, "So you do know it?"

"Why don't you just leave already?"

Bones straightens his posture suddenly, "Because, I care Jim."

"Care about me? Or care about figuring me out? Because those are two very different things Bones and the latter is starting to piss me off."

"Jim, I'm just trying to help you see your flaws, it's what any good friend would do." Bones points out.

"People become friends for who they are, not who they want them to be." Jim snaps and sees Bones' eyes switch from his vitals to his face.

Damn bio bed.

"I'm not trying to change you Jim; I like you for you, that's why we're such great friends." Bones continues, but Jim's not seeing through it.

This whole time Bones has been trying to make him someone he's not, trying to find a way to bend and form him into the standards of society. He doesn't need any of that shit. Yeah, he may be broken, but at least he's not some manipulative bastard who only cares about himself.

"If we were such great friends, you would understand why I have to argue on Francis' behalf." Jim turns the subject back to the real reason they're arguing.

"Well please, enlighten me. I'm sorry if I don't understand you all the time, but maybe it's because you never share anything about your damn self! The only reason why I know the things I do about you is from other people or during one of your moody self loathing moments!"

Bones is on his feet now, face flushing with anger.

Jim glares him down, "You really want to know that bad? Go pick up a history book you asshole. Then maybe you'll see why I'm so messed up."

"Oh finally, you've admitted it. Big deal. You got daddy issues. My dad died right in front of my eyes! My wife took away everything I loved. I haven't seen my daughter in months! And here you are playing the pity card, and by god I'm tired of it. We all got issues Jim, don't try to make yours bigger than everyone else's."

"You don't know me Bones. You know nothing."

"You keep saying that, but you never prove it."

"They're called secrets for a reason Bones."

"Yeah, and we're considered best friends for a reason."

Jim glances away, "Yeah, but I guess it's all for the wrong reasons."

That's it; Bones has finally lost the battle.

Jim hears a haggard sigh, eyes still averted from Bones, "Yeah, guess you're right. I just thought…" Bones' voice almost shakes for a moment, "I just thought that trying to be your friend was the least I could do for you. You looked so lost, I just thought, maybe you needed a friend."

He bites his tongue to stop himself from talking. This is Bones' fault; he brought this down on himself.

"I'm sorry Jim for trying to be your friend. I hope you have fun crying yourself to sleep, because when you wake up, I won't be there." Bones says so softly, it's almost a whisper in the wind.

Jim squeezes his eyes shut. He has to apologize; this isn't how it's supposed to end. He can tell Bones everything. He'll tell him about his father, his abusive uncle, his absent mother, his brother that ran away. Hell, he'll even tell him about Tarsus IV if he has to; he just can't let Bones go. Not this way.

"Wait, Bones…" He trails off, finding the room already vacant.

Bones is gone.

He rolls away from the open doorway, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his stomach in. He clamps his mouth shut to stop the building screams from escaping.

Bones is gone.

And he'll never admit how true Bones' last words are.

 **Author's Note: Their first big fight or what? Who's to blame, Bones or Jim? I try not to take sides, but I'm really feeling for Bones right now, and FYI a "masochist" as Bones describes Jim, is someone who enjoys pain/humiliation. So, what do you think? Will the duo make amends? I have a slight idea where this is heading, and it gets kinda dark in these later chapters, just a warning folks (and future warnings will be posted below chapter heading). Well anyways, I hope you stay tuned for the next chapter! Also so for the tardiness of this chapter, luckily I had it all ready to be posted! Live Long and Prosper.**


	20. Chapter 20

**"I hope one day you will realize I did truly care for you. I promise you're gonna miss me being there, putting up with you, refusing to give up on you. You're gonna regret everything you've done to me, including all the damage you've caused. And someday, you'll turn back and I won't be waiting for you any longer. I might have been worthless to you, but you'll miss me, when I become priceless to another."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 20**

 **(Warning: mentions of sexual abuse)**

He spends all night, tossing and turning restlessly. He keeps telling himself he doesn't care, that he should've never even bothered with the likes of Jim Kirk. The blond is an infectious disease. He ruins everything he touches and he Leonard McCoy will not join him in his chase of death.

He's not necessarily mad at Jim for not sharing himself, hell the kid's pretty messed up and there's things Leonard is better off not hearing, but the fact the kid can just throw himself away like worthless piece of shit without considering the fact that some people do care about him, well that just pisses him off. He's tried in so many ways to make Jim see that he cares about him, that he hates it when Jim let's himself be treated poorly. But the blond won't see it, either he needs it to be directly stated or he just doesn't want to come to that conclusion.

Overall, it doesn't matter. Jim made it pretty clear that they're not friends anymore; maybe they were never friends to begin with. Maybe they were both just broken souls just using each other for their own wants and needs. Either way, Leonard McCoy has certainly moved on and will no longer be dragged down by that attention seeking selfish bastard. He's spent enough time trying to help Jim, when he should've been focusing on himself, trying to repair the damage done their before attempting to fix someone else. He just thought that maybe fixing oneself would be easier with someone trying to accomplish the same goal.

But it's been made clear. Jim Kirk isn't looking to be fixed; he's looking to be destroyed.

So, Leonard simply lets it go. No more fights, no more drinks, no more blood, and definitely no more Jim Kirk.

He brings the pillow over his head, blocking the images of Jim's vibrant blue eyes, shocking golden hair, and bright white smile. All of it must go. The way Jim laughs and giggles, the way he must touch and feel everything, the way he lets Leonard hold him and pet his hair.

Leonard shoves it all away.

It's over. It's finally over.

He could only wish that he didn't have to see Jim so soon.

Seven in the morning, Leonard is called to meet with the Academy Board. Sighing, he leaves for the appropriate building, knowing fully well that he'll more than likely miss his Starfleet History class, but he might as well get this over with.

Upon arriving, he notices that Francis, Finnegan, Hermione, Captain Pike, Sulu, and Chekov have already shown up, including several Board members, all of which he doesn't know the names of.

"Cadet McCoy, glad you could join us." A brooding man of black ethnicity steps forward, shaking his hand thoroughly, "I'm Admiral Richard Barnett, head of the Board."

Leonard holds in his surprise, though it still lingers slightly on his face, "Oh, it's nice to meet you sir."

"Yes, sorry it's under such poor circumstances." Admiral Barnett replies, releasing his grip.

"Nonetheless, still an honor sir." Leonard smiles almost stupidly.

But his morning only gets worse when a certain someone bursts through the door. Still sickly and pale. The blond makes his bold entrance without the aid of a wheel chair, or any crutches. By his side, a nurse is frantically chastising him, but a few growls and snaps made by the blond has her shaking her head and stalking off, more than likely back to Medbay.

Jim Kirk doesn't even offer Leonard a glance as he strolls by, a slight limp in his stride as he makes for a chair near the front. Immediately Sulu and Chekov are asking him how he feels.

"I didn't think the young man would show." Barnett comments.

"He's awfully stubborn, sir." Leonard responds rather coldly.

Barnett catches the stiffness in his voice and sees it as a que to leave, "Thank you cadet for coming, the meeting should begin shortly."

Leonard watches him leave before finding a seat on the opposite side of Jim. But, like the infectious disease he is, Jim manages to hobble his way over to him.

Without saying anything, Jim takes a seat beside him, heading hanging slightly.

"Are you blind?" Leonard snaps, glaring at Jim's whitened face.

"Huh?" Jim barely huffs, eyes searching Leonard's almost desperately.

"You should be in Medbay and far away from me." Leonard growls defensively, Jim's words still ringing in his ears.

Friends for all the wrong reasons his ass, Jim's just afraid of commitment and the attributes that go along with that.

"I said I was going to share on Francis' behalf and that's what I came here to do."

"Yeah, but you don't have to do it breathing in all my oxygen." Leonard retorts. The last thing he wants is being stuck sitting next to the blond idiot for the next couple hours.

"I just wanted to apologize."

Jim's voice has grown so small and quiet. Leonard has never seen him this pathetic before.

Leonard laughs, hysterically. Jim apologize? There's nothing left to say, Jim's already destroyed everything that he's built up. There's no point in trying to fix something that no longer exists.

Jim looks rather confused, "Why are you laughing? I want to make this up to you."

He sighs, clearing the grin from his face, "Because Jim, I spent all last night thinking this over. And I've heard you say sorry countless times, but I can't count one time you actually meant it."

This makes Jim reconsider his next words, choosing carefully, "Look Bones, I don't want our friendship to be ruined over one little argument, please let me make this up to you. We'll sit down, have some beer and I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Leonard hums and grimaces, "Alright, let me makes this clear so it can get through your thick concussed skull. I don't want to have anything to do with the likes of you. Hell, I don't want you talking to me anymore and maybe one day I'll be able to look you in the eye and see you as a decent human being, instead of the low-life scumbag I see you as now."

Jim nods. He's almost too accepting of this. But Leonard doesn't care.

"Okay, I'm sorry Bones. I didn't mean to be an inconvenience in your life. You won't see me after this. I'll be gone. I promise." Jim's gaze falls to the floor and he rubs his neck almost shyly.

"Just hurry up and leave. If I ever meant anything to you, you'll do as I say at the very least."

With that, Jim Kirk stands, rather shakily, but still confidently, and walks away, not daring to glance back at Leonard.

Leonard doesn't allow Jim the satisfaction of him staring after him; instead he keeps his gaze glued to the floor until the meeting is finally commenced.

He tunes out most of the speech. Admiral Richard Barnett came up and gave a little eloquent introduction into the case, informing the other Board members of the current situation they are all now caught in. Admiral Barnett then brings Francis Donovan to the platform, making him swear in before standing before them all in silent judgment.

Francis gives the same report he did to Captain Pike. Speaking rather respectfully and quite dully in Leonard's opinion. This is whole thing is a train wreck. Francis isn't going to make it out of this one. There's no way.

Sulu, and Chekov give similar reports, both talking about their short time aiding Leonard take care of Jim. Finnegan gives very descriptive details of the fight, making everyone inwardly cringe.

Then, his name is called. His heart skips a beat.

They swear him in, then he stands before them all, before Jim's bright curious eyes.

"Please tell the Board the events concerning Cadet Donovan's case, starting on stare date twenty-two, fifty-five, point two ninety-eight." Barnett orders.

Leonard nods, opening his mouth for a moment to only stammer before clearing his throat, "Cadet Kirk and I were coming back from eating out in the city when Chekov told us about Donovan's mother passing away. Immediately Kirk tried to run off to the dorm, but I grabbed his arm and told him not to-"

"Why is that?"

"Because, Jake Finnegan was also there, and where Kirk and Finnegan both are, there's always trouble soon to follow. I just had a gut feeling sir, that whatever was going to happen wasn't going to be good."

Barnett nods before waving him on.

"So I grabbed him and told him not to go, but he insisted anyways so I let him. After that I honestly was quite furious, so I went back to my room, thinking of all the possibilities. It was hours before I finally went back to Kirk's dorm. When I got there, Francis was passed out on the couch so I went straight to Kirk's room, and in there I found him-"

There's a yelp, causing all heads to turn.

Leonard quickly spots Jim hunched over, arm clutching his ribs protectively.

"Maybe this calls for a quick recess?" The Board nods, "Very well, report back in ten minutes, and please Cadet McCoy, you are of medical training correct? Take care of Kirk." Barnett gestures over to Leonard's least favorite person, but nonetheless he nods his head, "Yes sir."

He steps off the stage politely and strides sternly over to where Kirk sits, wincing.

Leonard looks around; no one is in ear shot.

"What the hell Jim?"

The blond grabs his shirt and forcefully shoves him away, shaking his head.

"Goddamn it all. Do you want help or what?" Leonard growls, snatching Jim and hoisting him up.

The blond moans a complaint and lets Leonard drag him over to the restroom, none too kindly. Once there, Jim pushes off of him and throws up into the nearest toilet, letting a moment a of vulnerability slip by, reminding Leonard of the days spent holding the blond close and praying to whatever god was out there listening that his ex best friend wouldn't die.

"Shit Bones, I apologize, I know you said you didn't want to talk to me. But I had to get your attention somehow."

Leonard crosses his arms, not minding asking why Jim just threw up, or why he has suddenly developed the shivers and sweats, instead he just frowns and glares at him.

"Look, you can't tell them about Hermione and me. You can't tell them what happened." Jim practically begs.

"Son of George Kirk huh? Who would've guess that you of all people are even related to the great man, let alone his son. Look at you, a shaking mess and now pleading with me on your knees. The Kirk I knew would never do that."

Jim sighs, then stands up, using the bathroom stall for support, "Bones, I'm serious. Not now. Can you just not tell them? One last favor?"

"Not tell them what Jim?"

"Ya'know. That we were having sex."

Leonard snorts, "What I saw that night wasn't from sex Jim."

Jim scowls at him, "Of course it was, what else would it have been?"

By god, the blond is insane. Did he just forget what happened that night?

"Jim, you know what it was."

"No, I don't."

"Say the word Jim."

"What word?"

"Rape, Jim. It was rape."

Jim shakes his head, "No, it wasn't Bones."

"Say the word Jim." Leonard orders sternly.

"But it wasn't!"

"Okay, so you're telling me if I grabbed you and pinned you up against this wall and did all sorts of fun things to you, that it wouldn't be rape?" Leonard inches closer, making Jim press himself up against the stall wall, eyes staring nervously up at him.

"That's different, that would be rape." Jim barely chokes out, "Yeah and that's exactly what happened between you and Hermione! Don't forget that you told me you asked her to stop."

"But-"

"Jim, did she stop?"

"Bones c'mon-"

"Jim!-" He grips his shirt and slams him into the wall, startling him, "Did she stop?"

The blond swallows, eyes falling to the floor, "No, she didn't stop."

"You were raped Jim."

"I gave her consent. I let her." Jim whispers, "It's what I wanted."

"Is that what you tell yourself? Shit Jim, you're so screwed up! She raped you Jim, you need to see that, and so does the Academy Board, so they can toss that bitch out as well."

"It wasn't rape Bones. And they won't see it that way if I tell them she had consent. It's pointless without my word and I won't give it." Jim argues, swallowing the lump in this throat anxiously.

Leonard shakes his head, "Screw you."

"C'mon Bones, just this last time. Don't mention it."

Leonard glares at him. Jim's still wobbling, face white, cheeks slightly flushed whether from embarrassment or rage. Even his lips have taken in a grayish tone, as if Death has stained him.

"Fine. But then we're through. I'm not patching you up. I'm not talking to you. I'm not going to console you. I don't want anything to do with you." Leonard declares.

The blond nods, "Alright. Thanks."

"Now for god's sake man, come here."

Despite the hard feelings towards each other, he doesn't want to see the blond become sicker, whether or not he deserves it or not.

Jim accepts the help, seeing it as their last time together in a mutual friendship, until this case tears them apart forever. They are of course, on opposite sides.

Leonard steers him towards the sink, making the blond duck his head underneath the faucet's cold water. Slowly the color returns to the young man's face, and the shivers finally die down.

"Better?" Leonard prompts.

"Yeah." Jim sniffs, using a paper towel to dry off.

They stare at each other, a heartbeat thumps by. Jim's eyes glimmering of starlight, Leonard's eyes gleaming of earth. They are a balance, between hot and cold, between light and dark, between good and evil. One pushes the other pulls, one grabs the other shoves, one walks the other guides. But without the other, they are just another number in an endless equation, numerals and variables all losing significance, all losing meaning. They're a blank holo, an empty room, a hollow soul.

But they accept it.

But they also don't say goodbye. Goodbye means that something is ending and neither one of them want to believe there was a start to this.

Leonard is the first to leave. Turning his back on the stars and walking the earth by himself. Alone, he shall be.

The slimmer of hope disappears the moment he exits the scene, the mere microsecond Jim is no longer within the vicinity, he's no longer in Leonard's life.

Leonard is a void.

"How is he?"

He almost says who.

"He's in the restroom." Is all he manages, brushing by Sulu who continues into the bathroom to see for himself, followed by Chekov.

"Is he really defending me?" Francis asks, and Leonard turns, only to realize the man's talking to Captain Pike.

"Yes, I believe so." Captain Pike replies, "But why, sir?" Francis inquires respectfully.

There's a slight shrug to the captain's shoulders, "I don't know cadet."

Leonard sighs and goes back to his original seat. Lightly kneading his skull until the meeting is continued.

He's called back onto the stage.

He takes a moment to gather his bearings and pick up where he left off. Remembering his last promise. He won't tell anyone. He just won't.

"…So, I found Kirk in his room. He was badly beaten and was currently then developing sepsis. Which wasn't confirmed until he was taken to the hospital. He was admitted around zero hundred on Saturday. But through the rest of Thursday and Friday, I cared for Kirk, tending to his injuries and battling a high fever. He was delirious for quite some time. By Friday evening, Hikaru Sulu and Pavel Chekov accompanied me until Jake Finnegan brought in the medical team."

"Cadet McCoy, was Kirk's injuries due to Donovan's actions?"

"Yes sir."

"What do you think of it?"

"In medical terms or in my opinion?"

"Your opinion Cadet."

"I believe what was done to Kirk was abusive and worthy of punishment."

"And one last question…"

Barnett pauses, seeming to run a mental note through his head, "Did Cadet Rand visit you Thursday night?"

Leonard freezes. Like hell she was there. But for that last promise he made, he can't say. He can't tell the Board Hermione came to him that night, before she sexually abused Jim. Hell, the blond doesn't even know about that visit and no one should.

After arguing with Jim he had walked away to his apartment, and about twenty minutes later Hermione came knocking, asking for Jim. Leonard had told her that the blond obviously wasn't here. And somehow, the girl had fancied herself to his couch and one of his beers. He wasn't quite sure how she managed to do so, but he was still experiencing a slight hangover from the night before.

Then, she had been so enticing and the couch just seemed too comfy to refuse. So he had sat down next to her. They then started chatting, more into depth. They talked about Jim, like they actually started talking about Jim, which caused Leonard to dig for more answers. He asked why they were dating, why Jim liked her, how she believed they fit together.

It was through this friendly interrogation he realized she was lowkey psychotic. And it wasn't long after he figured out that she was using Jim, using him for her own physical needs and in turn was emotionally scarring the blond.

But, still angered with the blond for running off like he did. He told Hermione where Jim was and he watched her leave, knowing all too well her exact intent of seeing Jim that night. He knew, and he let it happen.

Leonard McCoy didn't do anything to stop it, and Jim Kirk can never know that, the blond can't know that his former best friend practically let him be raped. Leonard might as well have been there watching.

He knew what Hermione was going to do to Jim the moment she left his dorm, but he couldn't find it within himself to stop her. Jim brought this down onto himself.

"Cadet McCoy?" The pushing voice snaps him back to reality.

He shakes his head free of the memories and overbearing guilt. He's just protecting Jim Kirk in the end. At least that's what he tells himself so he can carry on with his own life.

"No, Hermione Rand did not visit me. I went straight to my dorm, and didn't see anyone until I went to Kirk's dorm later that night."

"Thank you cadet."

Leonard nods and waits until he's dismissed before stepping down, leaving the platform behind.

Hermione Rand is then brought up, everyone's hearts beat faster. Leonard especially waiting for her to make everything explode. To tell them all what she did to Jim. But she doesn't. When asked about her visit to Leonard's dorm room, she nervously apologizes and says she got the wrong name, that she meant to say Cadet McNally's name. Grudgingly the Board accepts it, but will double check with Cadet McNally. And luckily for them all, Hermione isn't entirely lying, she did see McNally that night, which will help cover it all up.

Everything seems to be going their way. Francis Donovan actually might be kicked out of the Academy. But, tables turn.

James Tiberius Kirk is called to the stage. Everything changes.

"Cadet Kirk, I am glad you joined us, I'm sorry it had to be under such circumstances." Admiral Barnett introduces, sitting stiffly in his oversized black leather chair.

"It's alright sir." Jim manages a weak grin, but Leonard can see his legs wobbling with the effort of standing.

"Please, someone get this a boy a chair before he falls over." Barnett gestures wildly, causing a few chuckles.

Chekov scrambles over with a wooden chair, promptly placing it behind Jim while nodding a short welcome to the blond's gracious smile.

Barnett clears his throat loudly, everyone holding their breath simultaneously.

"Cadet Kirk, will you please inform the Board of the events that transpired on stare date twenty-two, fifty-five, point two ninety-eight."

Leonard sees the blond nervously shift, hands wringing themselves out in his normal anxious manner. Despite the fact he wishes he doesn't see all these things, he does. He notices how Jim's eyes flicker from the floor to the Admirals, how his shoulders pull back sharply, how his breath doesn't quite escape his mouth, how his legs are ready to sprint away.

The blond sucks in a breath, eyes closing momentarily to clear the emotion away, before opening his mouth to speak. But his voice is still dry and hoarse, and by god it makes it seem like Leonard is the bad guy in all of this. Not Francis' case, but their disaster of a friendship. Jim's pathetic outward appearance makes it seem like he's abandoned the blond at one of his weakest moments and maybe he has, but Jim has left him as well. Jim is the one who set down the stepping stones to their doomed friendship, not him. Jim set them up for destruction, just like he always does, and forever will.

"That very night, Leonard McCoy-" god his name is blunt and without emotion or thought as it's forced off of the blond's lips, "-and I were coming back from Abrams Town. Since we had previously eaten at the Burger Connection. On our return, Pavel Chekov met us before we reached the Roddenberry dorms, and he informed us of the situation at hand. Francis Donovan's mother had passed away, and that Jake Finnegan was currently accompanying him in our room, two seventy-seven a."

Jim takes another breath, taking a moment to itch at his arms before settling with his hands clenching the chair. Leonard can see the tipsy motion of his head, the constant blinking of his eyes and the stutters between sentences, as if he just can't quite recall the facts in the correct order.

"So, in response, I sprinted the rest of the way to my dorm room and went inside. Finnegan, of course was already there and led me over to where Donovan was lying on the couch, obviously upset over the matter of his mother. So I decided I should help him, so I did."

"Cadet Kirk, please explain how you helped Donovan." Barnett pipes up after a brief pause, Jim's face a display of rampant thoughts, all twisting and turning in different directions.

But within a moment, they fade and Jim's face hardens, and the confidence flows from him in vibrant waves, "I told Cadet Donovan to hit me."

"Let me get this clear cadet. You asked Cadet Donovan to punch you?" Barnett inquires, everyone leans forward in their seat, all eyes settling onto the blond haired man before them, even Leonard can't help but stare.

"Yes sir, that's correct."

"What was Cadet Donovan's response?"

"Donovan did not wish to hit me. But I took advantage over him, since he was at the moment emotionally compromised and could not make correct decisions for himself…Admirals, sirs, I told him to hit me, I repeated so until he did, it is not his fault, I purposely forced him into doing so and I take full responsibility for my actions. Cadet Donovan should not be kicked out for he was acting out on my command."

"Are you telling us cadet that you gave him consent?"

"Yes sir, that is what I am saying."

"And you do realize, that this still breaks the rules, consent or not?"

"Yes sir, I do. I just believe that Cadet Donovan should not be forced to leave the Academy, sir."

Admiral Barnett sighs, shifting in his chair.

"Thank you Cadet Kirk."

And just like, everyone is dismissed, after Barnett mentioning a further discussion amongst officials. Everyone files out, and through the few dashing colors of uniforms, Jim Kirk disappears, just like he said he would, and by god he holds onto it.

Leonard leaves the court room gratefully, finding it almost noon and deciding he should probably head over to the lunchroom. The southerner groans. Jim will probably be there. He's not ready to see him so soon. But his rumbling stomach says otherwise.

Nonetheless, he goes to the cafeteria, picking out his usually bowl of salad. He can almost hear Jim mock him while twirling the green apple in his hand that will land onto the next table, spilling whatever fluids that so happened to be there over a pretty girl.

He blocks the images from his head. He must be rid of Jim Kirk.

Leonard spots Sulu and Chekov eating, immediately they gesture him over so he comes trotting along, giving them a small smile.

"Hey, what's going on with you and Jim?" Sulu asks, frowning at him as he takes a seat.

Faltering with his plate, he barely gets it onto the table's surface without spilling it onto the ground, "We uhh, we got into an argument."

"How bad?" Chekov prompts, munching on a slice of pizza which he had claimed not too long ago, that it originated from Russia.

"We're not friends anymore bad." Leonard grumbles, ignoring the gasps.

"Is that why you guys were so distant at the court?" Sulu says, almost afraid to look over at him, "Yeah, that's why." Leonard confirms sheepishly, eating his salad slowly.

"What was the fight about?" The redhead pipes up after a moment.

Leonard hums, "It's complicated."

Leonard leaves them there; he has to mentally prepare for tomorrow, where his next two classes are with the infamous blond. He's not quite sure if he'll be able to handle it.

He leaves the lunch before Chekov and Sulu finish, he'd rather not answer more questions about Jim, they can ask the damn blond themselves.

Once he makes it to his dorm, he shuts himself away, actually locking the door behind himself and digging out his piles of homework. And boy does he have plenty to go around. There are papers for an upcoming medical quiz. There's an overdue history reading on his table, not to mention the class period he just missed. Also there's a few packets for his stupid alien protocol class and something on klingon reproduction for Klingon Physiology, unless he heard wrong. Then finally, his Forensic Psychology class has something about, well, god knows what anymore. A murder game perhaps? He can't quite recall.

He handles the history reading first, glancing over something about the United States, a few German names he couldn't pronounce, and something about Hitler's hate for undesirables. Everything else is just a blur. Somehow this all builds up to Starfleet being created, but he's not quite sure what.

After about an hour of reading, he finally gains the energy to go bug Professor Gill about class today. But instead of actually walking over to class, he sends out a simple message.

He's then left staring at his Interspecies Protocol homework, and to be honest he doesn't know how to do it. On a normal day he'd just ask Jim, but considering the fact they're now on bad terms, he'd rather not. But he doesn't want to ask other people, they'd probably think he's dumb or something.

That's the thing with he and Jim. They didn't judge each other; they simply tried to coexist with each other. The made sure the other was keeping up, doing the work. And if they were stuck, the other would pull them through.

Leonard sighs. He needs to find another Jim, but by god, everyone knows that's impossible, because Jim Tiberius Kirk is one of a kind, and one that is no longer able to be found.

 **Author's Note: Ughhhhh, I hate writing about them when they're mad at each, but it's for the character development! Also just a quick apology for not replying to reviews and pms, I've been so busy lately, yall don't even know. But hopefully this chapter makes up for it. So, what are your thoughts? Team Bones or Team Jim? I'm actually curious what you guys think about this and who you think ultimately should take the blame. So please, stay tuned for the next chapter and enjoy! Live Long and Prosper.**


	21. Chapter 21

**"Anxiety stole my education; it stole all my friends, my motivation, my dreams, my future, my life. It stole me."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 21**

 **(Warning: drug use and strong language)**

It feels like there's a hole in his stomach. There's gaping pain running up and down his spine. Pale hands shake with each breath. The thrumming beat of his heart is loud in his ears.

"Jim, look man. You can't stay here forever."

He slowly rolls over, head spinning like never before. He blinks lazily over at the figure before him, hands on hips and glaring down at him.

"Jim, I'm serious. You need to go back to the hospital."

No, no he can't. He can't risk seeing Bones there.

"Are you even going to go to class today? C'mon Jim, I'm sure you already missed some classes. Don't you have classes with McCoy?"

"Go away."

"Fine, fine. Just a heads up it's almost noon."

Francis leaves the room, slamming the door behind himself. Jim rolls back over onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut, willing the pain to go away.

The moment he had officially been released from Medbay, he made his way here and hasn't moved since. He got in Tuesday evening, it is now Wednesday. He knows Francis is right, he can't stay here, moping around like a sore loser, but he just doesn't want to upset Bones further.

He keeps saying it's Bones' fault, that the southerner pushed him to this. That Bones' constant questions and concerns tipped him over the edge.

But if he's honest with himself, it's not Bones' fault at all. It's his. He's the one who distanced himself away, with all the fights, alcohol, and sex. He refused to let Bones help him when he needed it. And deal with this anger at himself, at his life; he let Hermione do things to him, turn him into something he's not. The alcohol was only a pain killer. But the fights, they made him feel alive; they brought a new thrill to his life.

Through this Bones remained by his side, until the end, when he crashed and burned. He was afraid of Bones seeing who he truly is, so he pushed him away, not sure whether to protect himself, or to protect Bones. Either way it's destroyed him, he has nothing left. He longs to sprint to Bones' side, hug him, tell him everything like he should have in the hospital.

Jim wants to apologize, but he's not sure how, and if he even can.

Bones hates him now and no apology will fix that.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, his mind wondering in and out of misery and bliss. His very soul aches to be within Bones' presence. The southerner made him feel alive, made him feel wanted and damned if he admits it, needed. Jim Kirk felt needed for the first time in his life. God, the feeling felt great, to have someone else dependent on him, not use or abuse him for their own desires.

But, the feeling is gone, and it shall always be. There's no need for Jim Kirk anymore, he's unwanted, discarded, a fragment of memory that's fading away.

Its hours later Francis returns, peeking through the door.

"C'mon Jim, what the hell are you doing?"

His roommate makes his way to his bedside, staring down at him with a scowl.

"Leave me alone Francis." He grumbles, not turning to face the man.

"Jim, you haven't eaten since you left the hospital. It's already ten at night. You're gonna get sent back to the hospital."

"Why do you care? Aren't you getting booted?"

Francis sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed. Jim takes it as his que to finally sit up and blink his eyes to life.

"No, actually you saved my ass Jim." Francis admits.

"Any repercussions?"

"Yeah, we both have been assigned counseling." Francis informs him, causing the blond to gape, "Wait, what?" He exclaims furiously.

"We both have to start seeing counselors on Saturdays."

"Screw me." Jim mutters groaning loudly, "Same." Francis moans, rubbing his eyes.

"Do we have to?"

"Well unless you plan on packing your bags, yeah, you have to."

There's a pause, both of them contemplating their next move. Both of them stuck in the same predicament as the other. Only if Jim could've stopped himself, then they would never be in this situation to begin with. The fight should have never have happened.

"Also, they've recommended that we find new roommates for second semester." Francis adds bitterly.

Even though they both hate each other, they at the very least have a mutual respect for the other's privacy. Yeah, Francis will beat him up every now and again, but it's only because he can't remember to bring a damn keycard. It's his own fault.

"Recommendation or an order?"

Francis shrugs, "It sounded more like an order to me."

Jim nods, "It's alright, we got a few months until we have to worry about that."

The blond gets up, stretching his muscles. It feels refreshing to stand for the first time in hours, over a full day.

He snatches up his leather jacket and pockets his keycard and wallet.

"Heading out?" Francis frowns at him, following him out of Jim's room and towards the door, "Yeah, got a problem with that?"

"No, just don't do anything stupid. You being back in the hospital will make me look bad."

Jim rolls his eyes disgustedly before disappearing through the door. There's no destination in mind. Just run. He wants to get away from here. Away from Francis, away from the case, away from the fight, away from Hermione, away from Bones, hell he can't stand being on campus anymore. But of course, with his typical luck, curfew is rolling around quickly.

He's never gotten off campus so quickly.

His heart is pounding, the adrenaline running through his veins. It's the familiar rush of excitement and anticipation. God he's missed it. This freedom, freedom with shackles.

The blond hardly knows where he's sprinting off to, but he keeps running. Running towards San Francisco City with open arms. Salty airs of the ocean sweep from the surface, blowing directly into his face, chilling him. The Golden Gate Bridge is within sight. And for the first time he lets his mind see the fact it's not truly golden, but rust.

He takes a pause, letting himself catch his breath in throaty gasps of crisp air. The ocean below glimmers in the starlight, reflecting bright white patches of light from the space above.

At walking pace he lets his legs carry him across the bridge, eyes all the while watching the stars in the ocean. Within minutes his eyes are drawn up, the sky is clear and void of the usual cloudiness. Just rich blue waves of blackness with white specks of stars looking down.

He doesn't know how long he's been looking up until he finds himself tripping in the street, a hovercraft slamming on its breaks and honking its horn.

Jim blinks, putting his hands out in front of the car as if to tame it.

"Sorry-Sorry!" He shouts, dashing to the other side of the street. He needs to pay attention to where he's going.

His legs take him further into the tall city. Buildings now blocking out the stars with lights of their own. Traffic lights flicker with life, and the scuffle of drunken steps are heard in the alleyways.

Drunk, he wants to be drunk. None of this sober shit.

He wants to stop thinking about Bones, about Leonard Horatio McCoy. He can feel the man's eyes following him, blaming him for all his mistakes.

Jim should've told him sooner, should've told him what was actually happening inside of his head.

Rage boils in his chest. It's all his fault. Couldn't he just swallow his pride for once? Bones has been through so much. God, Bones had to hold him as he puked himself into oblivion, as he cried and shook in pain. Bones was there. The southerner was always there. Why couldn't he just do the same for Bones?

He finds the closest bar and strolls in. The smell of liquor fills his nostrils, but he finds it oddly satisfying. The need for a fight is surging through his muscles, but his ribs still can't handle a hit. If he got into a fight he'd definitely spend the rest of his recuperation in a bio bed, strapped in with cords and tubes alike strung everywhere.

Jim orders the strongest drink they have, paying extra for a splash of Romulan ale to be tossed in. Illegal or not he wants some. The blond then sits quietly off to the side, twirling the drink within his hand, eyes lost in the amber liquid.

Time ticks slowly by, and with each sip he longs to be more intoxicated. He just can't seem to drown the pain thrumming in his chest.

"Jimmy?"

He perks up, his vision almost doubling for a second.

"Arendse?"

The lanky man gives a hearty chuckle, "I was hoping I'd find you here."

Jim rolls his eyes, "Great, what's it this time?"

"Look man, I heard about what happened between you and the doctor."

"Yeah, and what's it to you?" Jim snaps, casting him a weary glare as he slides into to the booth, "I got a little something for you, for free." Arendse explains, pulling out a white powder from his pocket.

"What is that?" Jim asks, taking the small bag from his hand, observing the contents.

Arendse chuckles, "Heroin in its easiest form."

"Shit!" The blond drops the bag as if it has burned his hand.

Drugs, he can't do drugs. But the pain is still raging within. Maybe just once? Maybe it'll kill the pain. It can numb everything. He won't think about Bones anymore. Ignorance is bliss after all.

"Heroin is a depressant you dumbass, it'll help you."

Jim sighs, taking the bag once more, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because, if I get you hooked I make more cash."

The blond nods. He and Arendse have never been on the same side. Yeah Arendse tried to kill him during the first week of school, but it was just a misunderstanding right? And this way they both benefit, they can have a mutual relationship.

"The first sixteen grams are on me. Just, don't sniff it all at once alright? If you like it, you know where to find me."

Arendse gets up, patting him on the shoulder, "And don't rat me out blonde."

Jim watches him leave briefly before letting his gaze fixate on the bag of drugs.

Just this once. Just to dull the pain. To forget, to forget the argument, the wasted apologies, the wasted time. Forget Bones.

His eyes fully examine the powder, feeling the longing ache in his chest. He wants this.

Jim stashes the bag in his coat pocket and downs the rest of his liquor. He pays his tab before he leaves, body sagging with the new opportunity.

Bones wouldn't want him to do it. But screw Bones, he's no longer here.

A rush of urgency hits him, and suddenly he just doesn't want to feel anymore. He wants to be dead inside, more dead than he is already. He doesn't want to worry, to feel the guilt that's heavily ridden on his heart. He doesn't want to feel the gaping hole in his stomach, the anxiety in his mind.

He pulls out the drugs, hands shaking, and runs to the side of the building, hiding within the San Franciscan shadows. Jim pours a little bit into his hand and hesitantly raises it to his nose. Eyes closing shut, he inhales sharply, taking his first round of heroin in his life.

It takes almost a minute for the drug to kick in, but when it does, there's strong rushing sensation through his body. His mind fogs and his limbs begin to feel heavy. He stops feeling, he's finally done. God it feels good.

Jim smiles stupidly and pours more into his hand, getting another whiff, careful not to waste any.

He then puts the bag back into his pocket, making sure it's no longer noticeable.

Drugged and drunk, Jim staggers his way back to campus. By the power of God, he makes it back without getting caught. But there's one problem, he didn't walk to his own room.

Jim climbs the stairs, heading for the third floor, room 389e. He swipes the card through the slot, and frowns when the door chimes a complaint.

"Hey!" Jim yells, confused about the resistance of the door.

On the fourth try, the door opens, but not because he slid his ID card, but because a certain grumpy southerner opened it from the other side.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Jim squints at him, he's not sure but that might be the one and only Leonard Horatio McCoy standing in front of him, and he looks pissed off.

"Jim," Bones spits the name from his lips, "get the hell out of here."

The blond snorts a chuckle, "What are you doin' in my room Bones?"

Bones rolls his eyes, "You sleep at the Roddenberry Jim, not Barrett."

The southerner pushes him from the door, causing him to fall down onto the ground, "Just leave Jim, get your drunk ass out of here."

The door shuts and locks firmly into place, and Jim's left wondering why the southerner is so angry. Maybe he could use a whiff of heroin; it'd probably make him happier.

Jim stumbles back to his feet, leaving Bones' room behind and basically falling down the three flights of stairs.

Once more, Jim Kirk pulls some luck out of his ass, not running into a single security officer. One might begin to think that there was no campus security. The chilling wind rips through his coat, making him shiver, but he doesn't notice.

Thankfully he makes it to his actual room in one piece. Fumbling around with a keycard to get inside. Jim wavers as he makes for his own room, dumping boots, a jacket, and pants as he goes. He collapses into bed and lets the drugs take over his body.

But through the foggy haze of liquor and heroin, a fearful thought strikes his mind. What if he gets addicted? The next thought it so simple, that it becomes his new motto. Fuck it.

 **Author's Note: Hopefully the warning was useful, I don't want to offend anybody, but just know Jim's going through a tough time in his life and things are just getting messy, there's more to come. Of course Jim and Bones will be thing, but for now they're not for obvious reasons. And most of you picked Bones' side, any of you feeling for Jim right now? I hope I captured Jim's side of the story well and it's easy to understand why he's doing the things he's doing. Anyways, what'd you think? I'm open to suggestions of any kind, within reason. Feel free to pm. Goodbye for now? Live Long and Prosper.**


	22. Chapter 22

**"I'm not crying because of you, you're not worth it. I'm crying because my delusion of who you were was shattered by the truth of who you are."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 22**

 **(Warning: drug use)**

Nine days. It's been nine long miserable days since he's seen Jim Kirk. Yes, he told himself to stop caring, that if he downed enough alcohol that he'd forget Jim's name, his face, his eyes. But it hasn't worked. He wakes each morning thinking of the blond, and he goes to class searching desperately for his face.

But like the blond said, he won't be seen again. Except for the one drunken night he showed up at Leonard's door, last week on Wednesday. Now it's Friday, November 9th.

Since the last time he saw Jim, if he's honest, he hasn't stopped looking for him. Every flicker of gold hair catches his eye, even the blinks of fiery blue eyes makes him snap around to search for them. When he steps into the cafeteria, his ears are straining to hear that laugh, the joyous chuckle that'd always make him smile. He longs to hear that familiar scoff, the smile that spoke volumes. One glance used to convey a whole conversation within a blink. But he's gone now.

The golden has faded to rust, the ocean has changed tides, the laughs and smiles have all been blown away.

Leonard can no longer find him, but he can do something about it, it's just matter of when and if he wants to.

But there was one night; he thought he'd seen Jim, Jim Tiberius Kirk, peering over at him in the darkness of night. It was a Thursday night, November 1st, almost midnight, when Leonard had climbed up to the hill, their place, the spot where Jim professed his love for the stars, yeah that place. He'd taken a bottle of bourbon with him that night, so maybe it was the drink too many, but he was sure that night he'd seen Jim's needy eyes looking in his direction. But within a moment, the figure had fleeted away, leaving Leonard to drink the rest of the night away.

It might've been him. Who else would it have been? Especially that late at night.

He huffs, he's been over thinking too much.

His Xenobiology class ended a few hours ago, and now he's heading for the library. He's has to find a new book to read. If he has to read another page of Starfleet history he's going to rip his hair out.

Then, as if the sun decided to shine just a tinge brighter, a flame of golden hair catches his eye.

Pausing, he twirls around, searching the crowds of people for Jim. But the flicker of hope dies when he can't spot the blond. Sighing he continues for the library.

He spends the next hour or two prowling through the aisles; dragging tired fingers over the bindings of old overused books. But he just can't seem to find a book he likes, so he huffs and takes for the exit.

Leonard rubs a hand over his face, hoping to wipe away the evident exhaustion. Jim's cries keep him up at night.

The trip back to his dorm is dull and boring. Usually Jim is there to bring a little skip into his step and grace a smile across his lips. The kid always had a story to tell, something needing to be said, or a reason to drink to pass the time by. Without him, Leonard has nothing, he's just another student in the academy, only other students are all younger, brighter, and more enthusiastic than him.

Leonard doesn't have anything going for him. He's old, grumpy, and likes to drink. Nobody wants to hang around someone like that.

But Jim did.

Where did it go wrong? Did Leonard somehow push the blond away? Was it his own doing?

It can't be.

"Leonard!"

He snaps around, nearly jumping from the fright, "God, what?" Leonard exclaims, seeing Sulu springing by his side, "Leonard, shit, it's Jim."

Leonard groans, throwing his head back, "It's always about him isn't it?"

Sulu grabs his shirt, pulling him to a stop, "Leonard, have you seen him lately?"

Frowning he shakes his head, "No, why would I? We're not friends anymore, don't you remember that?"

"He's in your classes." Sulu points out.

"I haven't seen him in any."

Sulu sighs, "Same too. I think he's skipping them."

"Is that why you're here, to talk about Jim's attendance record?"

"No. Not about that…" Sulu trails off for a moment, gathering his thoughts, "I tried to see him two days ago. I had gone to his dorm room, and Francis answered and told me he wasn't there. But then I heard someone throwing up behind him and Francis shut the door in my face. And yesterday I saw Jim outside-Leonard, something's wrong with him. He doesn't look right."

"Sulu, he's probably going through some shit too. I'm not exactly feeling perfect right now too. He's probably just dealing with it differently than me." Leonard suggests with a shrug. He doesn't want to think about the fact Jim needs him, more than ever now.

The Asian's head shakes, "Its serious Leonard, I think…I think he might die."

Worry gleams in Sulu's eyes, and Leonard can't help but wonder how many times he and Chekov talked about Jim by now. It can't be good.

"Alright, alright, fine. I'll see what I can do. But no promises."

Relief floods over Sulu's expression, "Thanks Leonard, please do check up on him, not just for his sake, but yours too. Jim doesn't just need you, you need him as well. I hope you see that."

Leonard just nods, letting Sulu slip away.

Now he has a reason to seek Jim out. But he's hesitant about fulfilling it. Won't the same thing happen as before? Jim's too self absorbed, too self relying to fit anyone else into his bubble, even Leonard. So what good is it to go back to Jim, after all that shit that went down? Shouldn't he just let Jim slip away, back into the shadows of his self loathing like he deserves?

But that brings up another question. Is Leonard Horatio McCoy that type of person? To let a friend simply fade with time, even if that's what they want? But he's a doctor damn it, and he knows it'll do Jim more harm if he completely abandons him. Yeah, maybe he could survive without the blond, but Jim, he's so loyal and faithful, he's just shy about opening up. No, he's afraid of opening up, and his only defense was to push Leonard away, and Leonard let it happen.

Maybe seeking the blond out now won't be such a bad idea.

Sulu's right. They need each other.

Sighing, Leonard decides he's got nothing left to lose, so he heads for Jim's dorm. The steps to his room are all too familiar, yet so foreign.

Room 227a, second floor.

His hand raises, but he freezes. He's made it this far, he has to knock now. But after all of this, he's that willing to give in? Shouldn't Jim be the one showing up at his doorstep, begging for forgiveness?

True it may be, but Leonard isn't here to apologize, he's here to make things right.

Swallowing his pride, he bangs against the door.

No answer.

"Francis? Jim?" He calls, knocking on the door again, but still only silence follows.

He activates the sensor and the door slides away. Apparently they don't lock their door.

Musty air fills his nostrils, causing him to wrinkle his nose and cough. The lights are dimmed, nearly off, and the floor is littered with trash. Francis doesn't clean, usually Jim does.

Leonard shuffles his way further into the dorm room, peeking into Jim's room, but it's empty, besides the dumped clothes, ragged bed, and thrown homework. He turns away, making for the couch and looking over the top.

A figure lies there. Shivers racing up and down the kid's body. Sweat is tracking down pale skin and his usually fluffy golden hair is plastered to his forehead. Goosebumps are rising along his skinny arms, and his abs are tight with tension. A whimper escapes his chapped lips.

Leonard glances around the room for signs of alcohol consumption, but there's nothing. But then, there on the table he sees it. White dust and a cut straw.

He audibly gasps and takes a step away.

What has Jim gotten himself into?

He glances at Jim. How much has he taken in? How long has this been going on? Is Jim's body already addicted? Is it too late?

"Jim, hey Jim, wake up." He shakes the blond gently, trying to get a reaction from him.

Jim's skin is cold and clammy to the touch, making Leonard want to pull his hands away, but he has to get Jim awake, "C'mon Jim, its Leonard. Wake up."

"Bones…hates me." Jim moans, eyes not opening, the only movement is caused from his tremors.

"Yeah, guess you're right. But I'll hate you a little less if you open your eyes damn it." Leonard grumbles, and Jim does as he's told. He always did listen to Leonard in the end.

"Shit, you're actually here." Jim yelps, squirming to get away from his hands, to avoid his touch.

"Shit Jim, what the hell have you done to yourself?" Leonard snaps, glancing from Jim to the left over residue of drugs on his table.

"Bones!" Jim breathes, "You can't be here. Bones you gotta leave." Jim struggles to stand up, let alone string together a sentence, "No! Not until you tell me what's going on!" Leonard demands sternly, crossing his arms and refusing to budge from his position.

Jim rolls his eyes, wiping away the residue of the drug and flicking the broken straw away, "Look, it's gone, happy?"

"Like hell I am! Jim what are you on?" Leonard asks, reaching to grab his shoulders, but Jim shrugs him off, backing away.

"Nothing good Bones," Jim takes another step away, "it's not even the pure stuff-" Leonard keeps persisting forward, "-if it was I'd surely be dead. It's mostly dirt." Jim's back collides into the wall, leaving him trapped with Leonard in front of him.

"Jim, don't make me turn you in." Leonard warns, examining his symptoms.

Cold sweats, shivers, goosebumps, sluggish. Vomiting perhaps? It sure does smell like it.

"Bones, please, you gotta go." Jim finally meets his eyes.

The rich blue ocean that once was there is gone. They no longer reflect the stars.

"Jim, what are you on?"

"It's none of your business." Jim replies stubbornly. He never did let Leonard in willingly.

"Jim, of course it's my business! I can't have you dying on me…" Ironic, because the words die on his lips, making Jim duck his head shamefully, "You shouldn't care anymore Bones. You need to leave."

"Why shouldn't I care Jim?"

"Because, you shouldn't." Jim replies bluntly, allowing Leonard to keep him pinned up against the wall when he tries to escape.

Leonard looks into his face, hand pressed up against his sweaty chest, "Why?"

Jim doesn't reply, simply letting his head hang.

"Jim!" He pushes him harder into the wall, causing a wince. Leonard was never gentle with Jim.

"Because I hurt you Bones. I treated you like piece of shit and took you for granted! You don't want me Bones, I'm nothing! I feel nothing and I want nothing!" Jim's voice cracks hoarsely, and he takes a breath.

"Jim…" Leonard loses his voice.

The blond keeps going for him, tears threatening to spill, "I promised you I'd be good. But I'm never good enough. I kept trying Bones-I really did, but I let you down in the end…I kept trying for you, I wanted to tell you everything Bones, but I was so scared, I was afraid…"

"Afraid of what?"

Jim sinks to the floor, eyes becoming distant.

Leonard crouches in front of him, each breath sounding earsplitting loud in the quiet space.

"I was afraid that…that if I let you in, that you'd see all the things I've done and been through, and that you'd leave because I'll never be good enough." Jim whispers, tears now slipping freely down his cheeks.

He swallows slowly, unsure of how to respond. Should Jim be allowed back into his life? Should they try again? Should they make amends?

"Jim…" The sympathy leaves his lips, "You can't seriously think that this-" he gestures to Jim himself, "-is going to make me come back," Leonard stands, watching Jim's head shake, "if you want me to come back, you have to try harder than that."

"Bones, I'll try, please."

"Jim, this is something that you have to do on your own. Fix yourself, then maybe we can fix our friendship." Leonard begins to back away, meeting Jim's dulled eyes.

"Heroin."

Leonard falters in stride.

"I'm doing heroin."

"Jim…" Leonard rubs a hand over his face, "I tried to get rid of it Bones, I dumped most of it out. But I was hurting Bones, I couldn't stop feeling the pain-I had to make it stop somehow. After I dumped it, I wanted more…Shit Bones; I dumped twelve grams of that shit for you and kept the other four grams for myself."

Leonard's now across the room from Jim, leaning against the wall, "Why didn't you dump all of it?"

"C'mon Bones! Twelve grams, can't you see I'm trying, why isn't that enough for you?" Jim's voice has grown so small, so vulnerable. It physically pains Leonard to see him like this, "You said it yourself. Because you're not good enough."

It's a low blow, even for Leonard. But he has to get away. Jim can't always rely on him, he has to fix things for himself or once, and maybe, if he can pull himself out of this shit, just maybe Leonard will be willing to let him back into his life.

"Wait, Bones…one thing before you leave?"

Leonard pauses at the door, back turned, "Yeah?"

"You're a good guy…don't beat yourself up over something you had no control of."

He squeeze his eyes shut, willing his mind to bring him away from Jim's dorm, but his heart longs to race back to Jim's side.

"Try not to overdose."

Leonard leaves, the door swishing shut behind him in a silencing thud.

And if he ran out of the dorm, he didn't seem to notice.

The next day comes all too quickly. Luckily he has the night shift for Medbay so he gets to sleep all day.

His morning is slow and drawn out. Leonard doesn't even make the effort to wiggle himself free of the covers until after eleven. The conversation with Jim from the day before is fresh in his memory. And he can't help but sigh every time he sees Jim's tears. Regret. Jim was regretful that night and Leonard had shoved it right back into his face.

Some friend he is.

Leonard doesn't eat, simply sips away at his replicated coffee, cringing at the taste but forcing the liquid into his mouth for the greater good. A tired McCoy is a murderous McCoy.

The piles of homework glare him down from across the empty table, but despite the fact that the caffeine is supposed to wake him up, he can't seem to find the energy to actually open a book. Just the thought of doing work makes his mind churn and ache.

He wanted an uneventful day, but that's the exact opposite of what he got.

It started with the knock, and damn it, he should've ignored it and took a nap on the couch. But no, he had to get up and open the door.

And there he was, bundled with thick blankets. His usual fluffy hair is stuck to his head, and his plush lips have taken a bluish tone.

But those blue eyes, Leonard couldn't disregard them any longer. They looked so pleadingly with him, so he gave in.

"Jim." He swallows, grasping the kid's shoulders, feeling the trembles racing up Jim's back, "Come here."

He reaches over to pull Jim in, but the blond is grounded.

"Bones…I, I can't…breathe."

Jim begins to pitch forward, luckily straight into Leonard's arms.

"Jim! Jim! Where are you?"

Leonard perks up, peeking over Jim's slumped form to see Francis, clearly frightened, sprinting through the hall.

"Holy shit! McCoy…" Francis pants, coming to halt in front of him, "McCoy he took too much…he took the rest."

"He-he overdosed?" Leonard prompts, eyes widening, arms gripping the limp body tighter.

Francis simply nods.

"Hurry, help me get him inside."

Francis takes Jim's other arm and together, they pull him to the couch.

"Shit! Francis in my room there's a medical bag, go get it now!" Leonard orders, he'll forever thank the stars that it was a Saturday and he had his med bag for his Medbay shift that day.

Francis races away in his search.

Leonard unbundles Jim, wondering how in the world he even got to his front door. But of course, with some Jim Kirk luck, he got here.

He checks Jim's pulse on his neck, finding it weak and fading.

Heroin is a depressant for the central nervous system. It dims the person's ability to feel pain, movement, and emotion. The body's metabolism will take in the heroin and convert it into morphine, which will affect pain and mood receptors in the brain. The brain will then release more endorphin and enkephalin causing the person to feel 'good'.

No wonder Jim took so much of it.

Francis dashes back in, bag in hands.

Leonard mouths a quick thank you, digging for the one drug that can save Jim's life before it slips between his fingers, naloxone.

"Sorry Jim."

Leonard forces the drug through his bloodstream with a quick jab into his exposed neck. Jim doesn't even flinch. Though Leonard supposes he probably can't feel anything but a tingling sensation right now.

"Bones…" Jim flails a sluggish hand in his direction.

He rolls his eyes and catches Jim's limp hand. Jim Kirk will forever force his way into consciousness no matter what the situation. Sometimes the fool should just stay asleep.

"Yeah?" He prompts after a moment, Jim seeming to forget he'd even spoken, let alone reached out for Leonard's touch.

"No-no-no…" Jim pulls away, eyes unseeing.

Leonard bites his lip, blowing a sigh through his nostrils. Slowly, he runs his hand through greasy blond hair, finding the gesture relaxing, even for himself. Jim instantly calms, despite his foggy state, the blond seems to remember it as well.

Francis hovers over his shoulder, watching Jim's chest rise and fall painfully slow.

"Is he breathing alright?" Francis asks, finding himself a spot a few feet off.

He contemplates for a moment, he himself hearing Jim's shallow breaths, "It's the depressant in the drugs. It slows everything down."

They wait in silence for a few minutes, letting the naloxone work through his system.

His shuddering breath draws their eyes back to him. Blue eyes flicker to life, scanning the place. Leonard recognizes the beginning of a panic attack rising in Jim's chest as his brain wracks for answers.

"Jim, Jim hey, look here kid." Leonard squeezes his hand, smiling when he sees the gleaming ocean roll towards him.

Jim mouths 'Bones', eyes falling shut now.

"You're safe now kid, it's alright. Go to sleep, get some rest, we'll talk later okay?"

The blond nods, and Leonard can see the discomfort in his eyes. He must be feeling guilty about the whole situation. But all Leonard can offer is a strained smile as he drapes the blanket back over Jim's shivering form.

He takes a breath.

If this is Jim's way of getting himself back into Leonard's life, well it sure as hell worked.

 **Author's Note: So what'd you think? The duo is finally getting back together! Also, I'd like to give a warning for the next chapter coming up, because I've gotten a rough draft started and it's really dark and depressing, just a warning. I'd like to thank you guys for all the favorites, follows, and reviews!**

 **Also, just an FYI, I'm going to talk about the use of "god" just to get it clear. Concerning its capitalization, as not to offend people, I spell it different ways according to context. God will be capitalized if it's in the beginning of a sentence, or when a character (or narration) is directly referring to the one and only God (the Lord) of the Christian faith. If god is all lowercase (like it is now), it means the character (or narration) is just throwing the word out, not directing it at the Lord God Himself, just at any fake, random, idol, gods. (Hope that makes sense to everybody!)**

 **Just clearing the issue up. If you have any questions or concerns about this book, feel free to pm me or leave a review.**


	23. Chapter 23

**"You drained me of my identity and injected self doubt into my veins. You left me questioning my own sanity. I walk around aimlessly, at war with my own body every day. I'm trying to scrub your heavy words off of my skin, but my mental state has been shaken to its core. I don't even know who I am anymore."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 23**

 **(Warnings at the bottom due to spoilers. If you are offended by touchy material, please read the warnings at the bottom of the chapter, and please do note that this chapter is very dark and is attended for older audiences. Thank you.)**

 **NINE DAYS AGO: (November 1st)**

He'd gotten the drugs Wednesday night, and after taking some, he stared at the rest he had left. The clock is striking one, one in the morning that is. Jim had already consumed a whole gram of the shit into his system, but it felt so good.

The rest of the fifteen grams glared back at him, daring him to take another whiff.

Luckily, the carving right now isn't very strong, so Jim is able to stash away the powder into his clothes drawer without longing to take in more.

He sleeps peacefully for the first time in days that night.

The alarm for his Xenobiology class goes off at eight am, pulling him from the sweet blackness that had incased him. He moans incoherently, searching for the damn PADD.

Jim scoops it from the floor, silencing it before tossing it back onto the ground with a loud thump.

Xenobiology, the class he has with Hermione Rand. Shit, he's not going there. She's the one that started this whole mess. She raped him. Shit, he's not ever admitting that ever again.

He pushes the thought from his mind, hoping to keep it there.

Images flicker. Her long blonde hair, those enticing eyes, long slender legs that curl around him.

Breath catches in his throat and he nearly coughs to get his breath back. Jim squeezes his eyes shut. Hermione Rand, the she-devil. He can't see her. Not after what'd happened that night. Why had he said yes? Why did he let her do it? Why couldn't he just said no? But no, he had to trust her, let her do things to him.

He sighs, wearily running a hand through his hair. A shower will do him some good.

Slowly, heaves off of the bed, snatching some clean clothes to change into.

Thoughts of Bones tumbled in as he steps into the shower's embrace. Thoughts of the southerner's lazy drawl when he's drunk or tired, the warmth of his hands when it meets Jim's cold skin, the smell of his breath with hints of coffee and futile mints, and his cologne, the familiar smell of southern pride at its finest, with the scent of liquor stains. Bones smelled of home.

Jim shakes his head. There's no point in lingering in the past. He can't keep thinking about Bones and Hermione, or he'll never make it out of the academy.

Slightly rushed, Jim finishes washing up and changes into some sweats and a hoodie.

"Jim, you going to class?" Francis emerges from his room, hair ruffled from sleep.

Pursing his lips he shakes his head, "Not feeling too great."

His roommate seems disappointed in his decision, "Alright, will you be there for Forensic Psychology? We have to do that murder project."

"Nah, I'll stay here. Just tell me what happens."

"Okay."

Jims scurries away to his room as Francis gets ready. He stares at his drawer where the drugs are kept. He chews the inside of his lip. Just one gram won't hurt right? By the time Francis gets back for lunch he'll be completely normal.

He waits for Francis to leave before he digs it out, his heart beginning to pound.

But he has to do it. For Bones, for Hermione, for Francis. To forget, to forget Bones' face, to forget Hermione's body, and to forget Francis' fists. There's a small voice in the back of his mind that tells him to stop, to throw out the drugs, but his need for them is stronger

He digs it out and jumps to the living area, settling on the couch while pouring a small amount of the contents out, roughly a gram or so, leaving fourteen grams left in the bag. Though, much to Jim's disdain, the heroin isn't close to pure, the more he looks it at, the more he notices the brown tinge it carries, not the pure white he'd hoped it'd be.

Jim fetches a straw from the small kitchen that's literally counter with a sink, oven, fridge, and replicator all jammed into one space by the door.

Using quick use of his pocket knife from his room, he cuts the straw shorter so it's easier to use.

He's back on the couch within a heartbeat, heroin piled on the table, straw in hand, now all he has to do is lean over and snort it up and he'll feel great again.

Just one more time, and then he'll dump the rest out. He's just going through a rough patch; just this one more time will help him get through it. Then no more. Jim will never use heroin again.

Justifying himself, Jim bends over, dividing the pile into small sections with his student ID card. Tentatively, he puts the straw to his nose. He closes his eyes and inhales sharply through his nose. His eyes water slightly but he blinks the moisture away, waiting a couple of seconds before repeating the process.

By the time he's finished the portions; his body has begun to buzz. The sensation burns and makes his stomach begin to churn.

Sluggish, Jim pulls himself from the couch and to the base of the toilet. His stomach cramps and he's left dry heaving until splashes of stomach acid leave his mouth. Shakily he sits back, shutting his eyes and letting the heroin take over his system. And soon, just as he wanted, he begins to forget.

Unconsciously he runs his nails up and down his arms to get rid of the crawling feeling.

Jim gathers to his feet and stumbles back to the couch, half a smirk plastered on his face. But his mood quickly changes as he starts to shiver. The blond grabs a blanket and curls up on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut.

Time blurs with his breathing. The oxygen that climbs into his lungs seems foreign so he quickly exhales it back out, and his next breath comes a couple seconds after the last. He just can't seem to find the need to breathe, so he lets his chest heave up and down slower and slower, until it's to the point he's not even sure if he is breathing at all.

His mind is a fog, one moment he's seeing the bright lights of his ceiling, and the next he's dragged back down into the darkness of his memories. Reality is in a tug of war with fantasy, each one pulling for his attention, his thoughts.

And as the clock ticks, Jim Kirk can't seem to recall what happened between nine am and noon, all he knows is that he now standing in front of the bathroom mirror, leaning against the counter with the bag of heroin beside him.

Three hours. He was tripping on this shit for three hours.

Shaking his head, Jim dumps the bag into the sink, watching as the powder drizzles from the bag and into the awaiting drain. But he stops before it all falls out. Just a small portion, just enough to get him to the weekend, by then he'll be fine. He has to be.

He runs the water, letting it wash away the drug.

Jim wants to believe by the weekend that he'd be okay, that he could just push all the thoughts to the back of his mind, but he can't seem to, not when he's not on heroin. Heroin just makes everything so much easier, taking away the pain, the thoughts, the emotions, everything.

The blond sighs and goes back to the couch, cleaning up the drug residue and placing the ID card and straw in his room. The heroin is put back into his drawer and within minutes he finds himself dozing off in his bed.

Francis comes back for lunch, not even offering Jim a grunt.

Jim wakes up around dinner time, but he finds his body without energy. Instead of going to look for food, the blond closes his eyes and lets himself sleep the day through until around eleven.

Having enough, Jim forces himself off of the bed and immediately pulls out the heroin from the drawer. Jim puts his ID card in his pocket and ties his shoes on before heading out, finding Francis wiped out on the couch.

The cool autumn air feels amazing against his warming skin.

Jim makes for the only place he can think of, the hill. Where the earth meets the sky, where there's no longer a need to look into the ocean for a reflection, simply gaze up. But clear skies are something that isn't in his favor tonight. Heavy clouds swirl through the night sky, yet Jim still finds the darkness comfortable, even if it's just him watching the desperate starlight glimpse between clouds.

But, as he comes in sight of the hill, he spots a tall figure there. The man's arms dangle at his sides limply, right hand clenched around the neck of a bottle. His head is titled straight up, looking for those stars hidden amongst wisps of black.

It's Bones.

His breath catches in his throat, and suddenly he's not breathing. A strangled noise escapes his mouth and now Bones is looking in his direction, but by the way he sways on his feet, he's probably already downed most of the bottle, meaning he won't notice that it's Jim watching him.

The blond only lingers for a moment longer before dashing away in the comfort of shadows.

Instead he makes for the backside of the gym, the place where Finnegan and Arendse decided to put a fist into his already damaged ribs.

It's there he crumbles, back pressed up against the wall, legs extended out before him.

He pours some heroin into his hand, and with the straw he snorts it up. His head rings for a second, but the moment passes and he repeats the process until the bag's nearly empty. There's a possibility of overdose, but that's the last thing on his mind.

Jim spends the rest of the night shivering up against the brick wall, not finding the strength to get back to his dorm. The odds of him being discovered are slim to none, but with Jim Kirk luck, that's as good as it gets for him.

"Why, I'll be damned. James T. Kirk."

The blond is barely able to pry his own eyes open, let alone piece together who's standing in front of him.

"Kirk, you don't look so good. Did you get your ass handed to you again? Didn't Len tell you to stop fighting or some shit?"

Definitely female.

Fingers snap in his face, "Hello? Are you hungover?"

Jim forces his head up, squinting against the bright morning sun.

"Uhura?"

"Damn right." Uhura replies, hands on hips, sass dripping from her tongue like venom. It's been awhile since they've talked, obviously since she still thinks he's friends with Bones.

"Umm…can you do me a favor?" His head lists to the side, and he has to jerk himself back up. He's not quite sure how much heroin he put into his system last night, he's just certain if he tries to stand, his face is going to end up breaking against the ground.

"Name it."

Jim swallows, "Can you help me up?"

Uhura narrows her dark eyes down at him, obviously racking her brain to figure out what's wrong with the golden child.

"What's wrong with you Kirk?" She decides thoughtfully.

Jim blows a laugh out, and maybe it sounded desperate because Uhura, drops the glare and offers him a smile instead. She crouches down beside him and feels his forehead.

He whines, "Stop, I'm not sick." He swats away her hand, "Just get me up and I'll be on my way."

Uhura nods, "Alright, alright fine."

She offers a hand and Jim takes it and slowly but surely, he's stabilized onto his feet, knees shaking but standing.

Uhura frowns at him skeptically, "Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?"

Jim smiles and shakes his head, "No, no that won't be necessary, thanks Uhura."

Uhura steps aside, crossing her arms, "Okay, bye I guess? No flirting, no hitting on me? That's all you got Kirk?"

Jim shrugs sheepishly, "I'm pretty hungover." He lies, smirking that grin.

She just rolls her eyes disgustedly, "Yeah, next time, just make sure you actually get home."

"Yes ma'am." He gives a little salute and stumbles away, the smile disappearing the moment his back turns.

He makes it back to his dorm in one piece that day; physically that is, mentally he's in pieces. The after affects of the drug are taking its toll on him, so he sleeps through most of Friday morning and into the afternoon.

A knock on his door wakes him up.

"Jimmy?" Finnegan peers around the corner, a pizza box in one hand and a glass of water in the other, "Man, Francis said it was bad, but dude. You look like shit."

Finnegan comes over, sitting on the bed, offering him the glass of water.

Jim blinks, unsure of how this kind gesture from Finnegan will end, but grateful nonetheless. He can't seem to recall the last time he had actually drank some water.

The glass is empty within seconds, causing Finnegan to chuckle, "You're looking thin." Jake Finnegan notes with a huff, eyes searching him up and down briefly.

Jim hums a response, eyeing the closed pizza box.

"Go for it, that's why it's here."

The blond takes the biggest slice and begins to eat, not realizing how hungry he actually is. Guess heroin can do that to a person.

"I didn't just come to bring you food Jimmy."

Jim pauses, heart beginning to thump, he already knows what Finnegan's going to ask about before the man even opens his mouth.

"Arendse told me what happened Wednesday night…Jimmy, how much have you taken so far?"

"Four grams, give or take." Jim says around a mouthful.

Finnegan laughs, "My boy! Hot damn. Since Wednesday? Man you gotta be going through hell right now."

Jim doesn't answer, just fixes the man with a glare.

"Why do you ask?" Jim prompts after taking another bite, "Taf mentioned it yesterday, though he didn't say how much you he gave you…how much do you got left Kirk?"

It took a second for Jim to process 'Taf' as Arendse. The blond has nearly forgotten Arendse's real name is Tafari. Finnegan has a thing for nicknames.

"I dunno, half a gram or so?"

Finnegan's lips purse, and after a thoughtful moment he sighs, "Well Jimmy, don't finish it too quickly, because you can't afford that shit."

Jim's heart skips a beat. Finnegan's right. He doesn't the money for drugs; he can barely scrounge up enough quarters to pay for his laundry nowadays.

Jake Finnegan gets to his feet, making for the door.

"Wait." Jim breathes, chewing his lower lip, Finnegan turns, a smirk on his face, "Is there any other way to get more besides money?"

The brunette's smile widens, "Just come visit me. Top floor, you'll know which room is mine."

Jim vowed he'd never go to Finnegan's room. But boy was he wrong. Saturday morning he used the rest of his heroin, and by that night, he was tossing in turning in the sheets, his crave for the drug driving him insane. Images of Hermione are springing up, and as he finally begins to block that out, he sees Bones' worried expression hovering over him.

He can't do this. It's too much.

The blond pulls himself from the bed, still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. The clock's hitting around eleven thirty at night by the time he makes it to the top floor, the sixth. Finnegan said he'd know which door is his, and he's right.

It's the only door with lights glowing from within.

Hesitantly he lifts his hand to knock. He almost turns away, and damn it he should have, but once he knocks, he's gotten himself too far not to follow through. Especially when every particle of his body yearns for more heroin.

After a single knock the door slides back, revealing a shirtless Finnegan, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"Jimmy, I knew you'd show up sooner later. Come, come inside." Finnegan takes him by the shoulder and brings him inside, closing the door behind them.

There are roughly twenty people inside, all sharing conversations, some making out, some eating, some drinking, and some getting a good whiff of white powder. Music blares lazily in the background; the dark undertones of the melody setting the slow beating mood of the party, if one can call it that.

"I assume you're here about the conversation we had last night?"

Jim just nods, eyes wandering through the room, finding a few curious stares glancing his way.

"No cash huh? Arendse will be disappointed…but no worries, I'll pay for it. How much do you want?" Finnegan talks as he guides Jim to the corner of the room, near the couch where Arendse lounges back, beer in hand.

"Umm," Jim coughs, clearing his throat, "Five grams?"

Finnegan looks at him funny, "That's all you want?"

The blond swallows, "Eight."

Finnegan laughs, "That's more like it pal. Now please, go wait in the bedroom over there while I pay for it." Finnegan waves him off.

Jim frowns, but nonetheless does as he's told. Finnegan's dorm seems to be bigger than his own. Perhaps perks of being on the top floor. Or it's the lack of furniture, he can't tell. The bedroom is empty when he walks inside, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, not quite sure if he should fully situate himself.

There's a fear pitting in his stomach. He knows Finnegan isn't just going to pay for him, the man wants something, and he's got a feeling that whatever it is, it's not going to be pleasant.

After a few minutes Finnegan is back in the room, one hand clutching two drinks full of, what Jim can only guess, is scotch, and the other a brown paper bag. Finnegan places the brown bag on the study desk and hands Jim a drink.

"Thanks." Jim nods and takes a sip, blinking a few times to get past the burning sensation in his throat.

The man just smiles, "Just drink up, Jimmy, you have a long night ahead of ya."

Jim freezes, the cup pressed to his lips. The way Finnegan lets the words slide from his mouth make him shiver, skin crawling. But he dismisses it, whatever Finnegan has planned, it can't be that bad.

By the time Jim finishes the cup, Finnegan's brought in a whole bottle. Odd, he hadn't noticed the man leave to begin with. Nonetheless, Jim drinks up, each sip washing his worries away, and he almost forgets that Finnegan is there until he hears the earsplitting snap of the door being shut.

He looks up, finding Finnegan's smile to be the most terrifying he's seen in months.

"Don't worry Jimmy; I put a sock on the door."

Jim's heart is now lurched into his throat. He almost drops the expensive drink on the floor. Now he's definitely having second thoughts about coming here.

But, as much as he likes to tell Finnegan that he's changed his mind, he finds his mind completely out of whack. Apparently he's had one cup too many. Or make that a bottle, seeing the empty bottle of scotch in his hand.

Finnegan comes over, sitting beside him. Slowly, the brunette takes the bottle from his hand, placing it quietly on the floor alongside the two cups.

"It's time for you to earn your heroin." Finnegan whispers, the lust in his voice making Jim visibly shrink away.

With a simple push, Finnegan has him tumbling to the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

"You probably should tone down the drinking next time." Finnegan announces triumphantly with a snicker.

Jim just closes his eyes, letting the coolness of the floor seep into his skin. He then hears the sound of clothes being discarded onto the ground, the familiar sound of a zipper going down. Shit, it's really going to happen.

Suddenly, hands grip his hoodie, and he's being tugged onto his knees, kneeling in front of an exposed Finnegan, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread apart.

"The girls say you're good in bed-and yes I know, this is a little different, but with a mouth like yours, this shouldn't be too hard for you."

Jim gazes up slowly, and if there's tears slipping down his cheeks, Finnegan doesn't seem to notice, or care for that matter.

Finnegan leans forward, taking a handful of blond hair and tugging Jim's head towards himself, "Remember when you told me that you don't believe in no win scenarios?"

He'd told Finnegan the night at the gym, where Chekov was shaking with klingon ale, propped up by Finnegan's goons. Of course he remembers.

Jim nods within Finnegan's tight grasp, lips trembling, "I don't believe in no win scenarios."

"By the end of tonight, you will." Finnegan meets his intense blue eyes, they're piercing yet somehow childlike despite the things they've seen, "Don't forget to swallow, slut."

He wants to blame something. He can blame the alcohol, he can blame Arendse for offering heroin in the first place, he can blame Finnegan for coming in that Friday night, but hell, when it comes down to it, he can only blame himself. Jim brought himself here, craving for more, and he ended up biting off more than he can chew.

Jim tries not to remember the events of that night. He doesn't want to remember the noises Finnegan made the second Jim started to work with his mouth. He doesn't want to remember the taste of the liquid on his tongue, let alone the revolting texture. He doesn't want to remember his own pitiful grunts and moans when Finnegan pulled his head closer, or how Finnegan yanked his hair to make him gag. The only thing he wants to think about is that it's over now.

Finnegan had left, after ten minutes of just lying there panting for breath, before proceeding to clean up a little and leave Jim by himself.

Jim's just sitting on the ground, head leaning against the board of the bed, hands gripping the mattress, and juices dripping freely from his mouth and onto the already wet floor.

"I-I don't believe in no win scenarios." Jim whispers, voice cracking hoarsely, but if only he could actually believe it.

He gets up, his stomach rolling with the effort.

Sniffling, he wipes his mouth on blanket and shakily grabs the bag of heroin off the desk. As he leaves, he finds the dorm room vacant, but he doesn't care anymore, he just runs away. Jim goes for the elevator, unsure if he can trust his legs to carry him down to the second floor.

He just wants this to be over, but his Jim Kirk luck appears to have dried up.

And as the elevator doors slip shut, a hand shoots between them, halting their movement. Of course Finnegan slides between the doors.

"You did good Jimmy." Finnegan says, watching Jim desperately press the button for the second floor.

Finnegan shakes his head, pushing the stop button and shoving Jim into the wall, causing him to drop the brown paper bag.

"You left without say goodbye…and I didn't get to explore the bottom half of you." Finnegan has him pinned against the elevator wall.

Jim can barely stand, let alone see straight. He's starting to lose the battle to stay conscious, but that all changes when his hoodie is being tossed aside, revealing hard cut abs, along with sharp ribs.

"You gotta eat more Jimmy." Finnegan chuckles, grabbing Jim by the wrists and pressing them above his head.

The blond's legs shake with the effort of standing.

"Ya'know Jimmy, I can always return the favor."

Finnegan's hand grabs between his legs, making him squirm and moan, "No-no. No more Finnegan."

"You like it, admit it you little slut."

Jim whimpers and tries to push Finnegan away, but he's just so massive and so much stronger than he is. It'd help if Jim was to full strength, and not still weak from the hospital, and maybe not have over half a bottle of scotch running through his system.

"C'mon Jimmy. Don't refuse, lemme help you." Finnegan teases with his hand, giving him tight squeezes just to see the blond's reaction.

Jim latches onto Finnegan's shoulders, just to keep himself upright. His breaths are coming shorter with each passing second, and within the next moment Finnegan's mouth is on his, forcing his way in. It's then he tastes the alcohol in Finnegan's mouth and the minty toothpaste he uses.

He grunts when Finnegan's lower half works into him, grinding him up against the elevator wall.

Shit, drunk or not, Jim's not allowing this to happen again. He doesn't want to get taken advantage of, not again.

He lifts his leg to smash his heel down into the brunette's foot, but Finnegan takes it as his que to grab Jim's thighs and force them around his waist so he can push harder. Jim whimpers, heart racing.

Still gripping Finnegan's shoulders, Jim reaches up and bites the man in the neck, causing him to yelp and stumble just enough for Jim to push him off.

Finnegan crashes into the elevator door and Jim takes the opportunity to land his fist into his face. A cracking sound echoes in the small confined space. Finnegan's nose begins to gush full of blood.

Jim brings the elevator back to the sixth floor, and when the doors slide open, he kicks Finnegan out and continues back to the second floor.

Swallowing, he slips his hoodie back on and grabs the bag of heroin before running back to his dorm room.

Once inside he heads to his room, collects whatever clean clothes are left, which are just his plain civilian clothes, and goes to the bathroom. He drops the bag of heroin on the counter and glares at it.

It wasn't worth it.

Jim rubs his skin raw in the shower, letting the hot water burn through his senses. He doesn't even cry, he can't, he's not sure if he's capable anymore. He just feels hollow, empty, a blank canvas, abandoned.

He gets dressed and forces his legs to carry him to his bed after thoroughly washing his mouth out with soap.

The blond crashes into his bed, still clutching the brown bag; it only takes a minute for him to fall asleep. But his victory is short lived, for every time he falls asleep, he awakes twenty minutes later, sweaty and panting.

His Sunday is spent staring at the wall opposite of his bed, heroin in his lap. Francis doesn't stop to check in on him that day. And if he consumed over two grams that day, no one gives a shit.

Monday and Tuesday are just repeats of Sunday, only Francis handed him a plate of food each day, along with a bottle of water Francis said he had to drink or he'd take away his heroin. His PADD explodes with messages from professors, sending him emails about his lack of attendance, but he doesn't read any of them.

Then Wednesday rolls around, November 7th.

With the absence of food in his stomach, the heroin only makes it worse. He's spent most of his nights tripping, lost between dreams of Finnegan touching him and Bones dying in his arms due to his actions. Francis never once goes in there to pull him from his dreams; perhaps he's too scared, Jim's not sure.

But on Wednesday afternoon, Jim stumbles from his room. He clutches his stomach, trying desperately to hold the bile down, but he can feel it rising steadily.

Francis only glances up when he hears a knock on the door, simply nudging Jim off to the side so he can get to the door.

"Sulu?" Francis huffs from the door.

"What's going on? Where's Jim?" Sulu questions.

"He's not here."

Jim shakes his head, hands on knees. His stomach then spasms, causing him to puke onto the floor.

"Shit." Francis snaps, and closes the door on Sulu's face, locking it before turning to Jim, "Couldn't you just get to the bathroom first?" Francis complains, hauling him along to the toilet's edge and leaving him there.

The next day, Jim gets a message from Captain Pike, addressing the issue of both his absence at classes and on Saturday for his counselor meeting for letting Francis beat the crap out of him. Though, in both cases, Jim doesn't care.

He simply sits back and snorts in another gram and a half.

He took a walk that afternoon, and he thought he saw Sulu and Chekov at some point, but he's not sure, he was tripping pretty hard.

Friday is where it all crashes at his feet. Francis has been gone all day so he takes to the couch, pouring heroin onto the table and clutching his straw tightly. He gets a good snort after stripping himself of his shirt and lies back, letting the time tick by like it usually does.

His mind begins to spin away and the shivers and goosebumps take a hold of him. But he lets himself ride through the pains, letting the thoughts slip away.

Then suddenly, a storm brews up when a pair of hands shake and jostle him back into a state of reality, where he's lost his best friend, let his roommate beat him up, and has been raped by the school bully and his own girlfriend, yeah that reality.

"Jim, hey Jim, wake up."

The words echo in his head, and they sound oddly familiar, he just can't put a name on it.

"C'mon Jim, its Leonard. Wake up."

Shit, it's Bones. It can't be, Bones can't be here, he's not supposed to be here.

"Bones…hates me." Jim mutters under his breath.

"Yeah, guess you're right. But I'll hate you a little less if you open your eyes damn it."

Jim moans, but nonetheless opens his eyes, finding Bones right above him, "Shit, you're actually here." Jim gasps, struggling to get away from Bones' hands, he's already been touched enough.

"Shit Jim, what the hell have you done to yourself?"

Bones' eyes travel from the dusted heroin on the table to his face.

"Bones!" Jim sighs, "You can't be here. Bones you gotta leave." Jim replies, standing up to prove his point, but Bones glares at him, "No! Not until you tell me what's going on!"

Jim rolls his eyes and wipes away the heroin and straw, "Look, it's gone, happy?"

"Like hell I am! Jim what are you on?" Bones snaps reaching out for Jim, the blond steps back, head spinning.

"Nothing good Bones," Jim grunts, trying to get away from the approaching southerner, "it's not even the pure stuff, if it was I'd surely be dead. It's mostly dirt."

Jim runs into the wall, and suddenly his heart's racing. It's Finnegan all over again. Maybe that's why Bones is here, to push him up against the damn wall like he almost did back in the bathroom stall during Francis' trial.

"Jim, don't make me turn you in." Bones threatens sharply,

"Bones, please, you gotta go." Jim gazes up, meeting Bones' eyes, making him sigh, "Jim, what are you on?"

Jim scowls, "It's none of your business."

"Jim, of course it's my business! I can't have you dying on me…" The words die on Bones' lips, making Jim duck his head shamefully, "You shouldn't care anymore Bones. You need to leave."

Bones doesn't need to be here for this. The southerner needs to move on with his life, not backtrack into Jim's.

There's a pause.

"Why shouldn't I care Jim?"

Jim swallows, sucking in a breath, "Because, you shouldn't." He then tries to dodge around Bones, but the doctor pushes him against the wall and leans towards him, "Why?"

The blond ducks his head.

"Jim!"

He winces, cringing away from Bones. The doctor's hands are all too similar to Finnegan's.

But he can't keep it in anymore, and now the floodgates burst forth, "Because I hurt you Bones. I treated you like piece of shit and took you for granted! You don't want me Bones, I'm nothing! I feel nothing and I want nothing!" Jim's voice cracks embarrassingly so, but Bones doesn't seem to take note.

"Jim…" Bones' voice almost pleads with him.

His lips tremble and he can feel tears brimming in his eyes, and damn it there he was a few days ago thinking he couldn't cry.

"I promised you I'd be good. But I'm never good enough. I kept trying Bones-I really did, but I let you down in the end…I kept trying for you, I wanted to tell you everything Bones, but I was so scared, I was afraid…" Jim can't get himself to say it, the words fading from his mouth.

"Afraid of what?"

He slips to the floor, his legs no longer able to hold him up, and he's vaguely aware of Bones crouching in front of him.

"I was afraid that…that if I let you in, that you'd see all the things I've done and been through, and that you'd leave because I'll never be good enough." Jim replies softly, feeling the tears roll down his pale face.

"Jim…" Bones' voice grows cold, "You can't seriously think that this-" Bones points at all of him, "-is going to make me come back, if you want me to come back, you have to try harder than that."

Jim loses his breath. How can Bones do this to him? How dare he come back just to deny him again? Who does that?

"Bones, I'll try, please." Jim whimpers and he hates himself for being so weak.

"Jim, this is something that you have to do on your own. Fix yourself, then maybe we can fix our friendship."

Bones is slowly backing away, leaving Jim alone with his fears, his demons. He can't lose Bones again, not again.

"Heroin." Jim breathes his last attempt to get Bones to stay, to show Bones that he's willing to let him inside this time.

The southerner visible stumbles.

"I'm doing heroin." It's the first time he's admitted it out loud.

"Jim…" Bones trails off, so Jim continues for him, "I tried to get rid of it Bones, I dumped most of it out. But I was hurting Bones, I couldn't stop feeling the pain-I had to make it stop somehow. After I dumped it, I wanted more…Shit Bones; I dumped twelve grams of that shit for you and kept the other four grams for myself." Jim tries his best to be honest with him, it's the only way to get Leonard McCoy back into his life, and it's to be honest.

Bones sighs, leaning against the wall opposite of him, "Why didn't you dump all of it?"

"C'mon Bones! Twelve grams, can't you see I'm trying, why isn't that enough for you?" Jim cries out, letting the tremors wash over him.

Bones stiffens, and Jim can see the coldness seep into the southerner's eyes, "You said it yourself. Because you're not good enough."

Jim's head falls down, and he lets himself stare at the floor, listening to Bones' retreating footsteps. He sucks in a breath.

"Wait, Bones…one thing before you leave?"

Bones pauses, back facing Jim, "Yeah?"

"You're a good guy…don't beat yourself up over something you had no control of." Jim says sternly, only glancing once Bones' way, only to see his backside.

"Try not to overdose."

It's not the way Jim wants the conversation to end, but that's how it does.

Jim sobs.

The cries shake him to his core, leaving him gasping for breath with each tremor. He holds himself tighter and runs his nails up and down his arms.

That night he spends sitting at his desk, staring down at the five grams of heroin poured onto the desk's surface. Overdose, he can just overdose right here. End it all.

He gazes at it all night and all Saturday morning, letting his mind think back to all his mistakes, all his failures, and all his screw ups.

He's better off dead. Nobody needs him.

His promise to Bones, his promise to be good, it's over. He's failed. Bones doesn't want him anymore, because he'll never be good.

Bending over, he puts the straw to his nose, and begins to take it all in. Despite the burning Jim keeps going for when Francis beat the shit out of him, for when Hermione invaded his privacy, for when Arendse introduced the damn substance into his life, for when Finnegan grabbed him by the hair and forced him onto his knees, for all the times his friends stood by and turned a blind eye, for all the times Bones argued with him, for all the times he hurt Bones.

Because it's his own damn fault in the first place.

But Bones, what about Bones?

He looks down, the heroin is gone, he's consumed it all.

What if Bones never forgives himself? What if this hurts the people around him more than he's hurting now? How can he do this to them? How can he so selfishly throw himself away just because he's hurting?

He doesn't want to do this, he's changed his mind. But it's too late, it's already done, he's going to die.

So, in his last attempt to make things right, James Tiberius Kirk stands, shaking, but stands, and runs for the door, though he's pretty sure he smashed his face on the frame.

He hears Francis' distant shout for him to come back, but he ignores it and tumbles down the stairs heading for one destination.

Barrett dorms, third floor, room 389e.

 **(Warning: Contains sexual abuse, drug use, and suicide attempt, you have been warned.)**

 **Author's Note: I'm sorry for the darkness of this chapter, but I'm hopeful things will start to lighten up here in the next few chapters. Thanks guys for sticking around and let me know what you think of the chapter. Also, I plan on bringing Uhura more into the story, because to be honest I totally forgot about her! And, don't worry, the gang will be getting back together here pretty soon, because who is Jim without his Bones anyways? Thanks again guys for everything and I hope you stay tuned! Live Long and Prosper.**


	24. Chapter 24

**"Friendship means understanding, not agreement. It means forgiveness not forgetting. It means the memories last even if contact is lost."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 24**

Leonard sits back and watches. It's all he could do nowadays, just sit and watch. Francis at the very least isn't watching, he's leaning uncomfortably against the door, almost guarding it, in a silent vigil. The room is quiet other than the soft whimpers and moans of the number one reason why their lives all go to shit in the end in the first place.

There are so many reasons why Leonard should grab him by the hair and toss him out the nearest window, to let him suffer on his own. But, there are also so many reasons why Leonard should stick around, to protect and nurture him back to life.

It's been eight hours, eight hours since his last dose, and the blond's beginning to feel the symptoms of withdrawal. However deep Jim got himself into this shit, it's going to be hard to pull him out.

"He needs some more McCoy." Francis mutters dryly from the door, arms crossed, his tone somehow accusing Leonard, as if he's the one who shoved heroin up Jim's nose, "It'll only make the process longer." Leonard returns flatly, not sparing a glance in his direction, he's too annoyed at himself, at Jim, at this whole situation to do anything about it.

"McCoy, I'm serious, he could die depending on his dependent his body has become."

Leonard rubs a hand over his face, tearing his gaze away from Jim's writhing form on the couch, "Alright, even if we do get him more, where are we gonna find it?" He points out.

"Finnegan might know."

"Fine, call the bastard over, I don't care." Leonard yanks at his own hair, sighing haggardly and offering a sympathetic glance Jim's way, the kid has his eyes open wide, his chest seizing forward in attempt to suck in more oxygen, his feet have begun to dig into the cushions of the couch, and his hands desperately grip the sides.

"Goddamn it kid," Leonard rises from the chair he'd been sitting in and kneels down beside Jim as Francis whips out his PADD and messages Finnegan to come over, "hey kid, look here."

Jim does as he's told, body shivering.

Leonard gives him a smile, taking his hand within his own, "Jim tell me something…when did this start?"

The kid's face falters for a moment, eyes squeezing shut as he thinks, "W-Wednesday."

"Like a couple days ago Wednesday? Or after the trial?"

"After the trial." Jim manages to whisper, coughing hoarsely into his arm.

"Shit Jim, god why didn't you tell me?" Leonard, brushing back the stray blond hairs.

Jim shies away from the touch, flinching involuntarily, "You told me to stay away." The blond says shakily, curling into a tight ball on the couch.

Leonard nods slowly, Jim was just doing what he told him to do, he always listens even if he pretends not to.

With a sigh he gets up and retrieves a blanket for Jim, draping it over his body, which wasn't hard to do at all, considering the fact the blond is basically folded into himself.

He sits back down in the chair and watches Jim's eyes flutter shut, letting the time slip by between his fingers. Just like their friendship, he let that slip through as well. How has it come to this?

"Finnegan's here." Francis announces, opening the door so the school bully can slide in.

"What's this all about? What's going on?" Finnegan demands, running a hand through his hair, eyes flickering about the room and Leonard can't help but notice the swollen nose.

"Calm down Finnegan, don't get your panties in knot, it's not you, it's Jim."

"Jimmy?" Finnegan exclaims, coming around the couch to eye Jim in the face, examining him closely, almost possessively.

The blond flinches at his voice, gaze averted for a second before daringly looking up.

"Finnegan, Jim he…" Leonard trails off for a moment, watching Jim's introverted reactions to Finnegan's presence, something's definitely off between the two, and not their usual 'Finnegan shoved me in a locker today' kind of off. No, Jim is used to that type of bullying, and hell, Leonard's positive the blond thrives off of it, but this, this is different.

"Finnegan he almost OD'd on heroin."

Jake Finnegan pauses, staring at Jim, there's a slightly plead in Jim's blue eyes that tells Finnegan what to do.

"Shit, is he gonna be okay?"

"Finnegan, we need you to get some more for him." Leonard cuts to the chase; not bothering with simple formalities, there's never enough time with Jim.

Finnegan sighs, shaking his head, "Why me?"

"Obviously because Jim isn't going anywhere, but when those withdrawals come in, it's gonna be painful, it's better to ease him off."

Finnegan snorts a laugh, gazing directly into Jim's eyes, "I don't have the cash for it."

"Bones." Jim almost yelps, shooting into a sitting position, but his face shows his regret, "God Jim, hold still idiot." Leonard kneels down beside him, "What kid?"

"Make him leave."

"What-" Leonard begins, "Finnegan, make him leave." Jim rasps out, clutching Leonard's shoulder shakily, gazing into his eyes.

"Hold up kid, just god, calm down, breathe. Okay?" He rubs Jim's back, patting his head after he hears the blond suck in a quivering breath, "Good, okay just, stay there." Leonard gets up, taking Finnegan by the elbow and steering him towards the kitchen, Francis following behind.

"Hell, what was that about?" He hisses at Finnegan, releasing his tightening grip on the man, "I don't know! C'mon Leonard, Jimmy's just going through a rough time, you should know-wait, you shouldn't know, because you stopped talking to him." Finnegan sneers and all Leonard wants to do is throw a fist into his face, but he needs the man unfortunately.

"Finnegan," Leonard pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily to collect his thoughts, "Please, just get some heroin, I'll pay for every cent of it if I have to."

"Ehh, just take him to Medbay." Finnegan grins.

"You know we can't do that, Jim and I both will be expelled!" Francis whines from the kitchen chair he sits in.

"Shut up Francis." They say in unison, and they would've laughed if it weren't for the circumstances.

Leonard groans, "Look, c'mon Finnegan, whatever it takes. Please."

Finnegan laughs, "Alright, alright," he takes Leonard by the shoulder, "only because you asked so nicely." The grin that spreads on the man's lips makes Leonard feel uncertainty stir in his gut, but he pushes the feeling aside, something he's learned to do when concerning Jim.

He manages a small smile and lets himself be led back to the couch, "Now you just sit tight, I'll bring it as soon as possible, but for now, keep this kid situated, within the next couple hours he's gonna be hurting pretty bad." Finnegan informs him casually, heading for the door now.

"I'll hit you guys up later when I get some." Finnegan continues once he's halfway through the doorway.

They watch him leave, Francis making sure the door shuts after him.

"Damn it."

Leonard glances down, catches the wisps of curse words being strung under Jim's gasping breaths. Why the blond is so aggravated by Finnegan's presence, is something Leonard's going to try to find out.

"Bones…bucket."

"Shit." Leonard leaps around the couch, snatching the trash can before diving back beside Jim, just in time to catch the rush of clear bile leaving the blond's mouth.

Jim reaches to grasp the bucket, but he ends up only grabbing the hem of Leonard's shirt as his stomach spasms and he curls in on himself.

"Francis, can you get him some water?"

It's more of an order rather than a question.

"I'm…sorry Bones." Jim rasps out dryly, chest jolting with a hiccup.

Leonard's heart twists at the apology, Jim always apologizes whether he has control of the situation or not.

"Save it kid, you and me are gonna have a long chat once this is over." He smiles, patting the blond's shoulder and letting his hand find its way into the younger man's hair, gently toiling the spikes of blond.

Francis comes around, a glass of water in hand, "Here," the man offers it forward, Leonard simply giving him a nod.

"Try to sit up kid." Leonard helps him into a more upright position, head against the armrest.

Slowly, Jim places shaky hands around the cup, taking a sip of the refreshing liquid.

Unfortunately it only gets worse from there. Within the next hour, Jim is situated in the bathroom, no longer able to keep his stomach spasms under control. So Leonard sits with him, rubbing circles into his back as he pukes in the toilet. Leonard can only sit with him, forcing more water into his system and try desperately to keep his temperature down.

"I-I want to sleep." Jim mumbles somewhat incoherently, taking a sharp breath before spewing into the toilet again.

"Well we can't have you choking on your own vomit." Leonard points out, sighing and sitting back.

Jim grunts at him, letting his body collapse onto the floor, head resting against the lip of the toilet seat, in which would've been seen as disgusting in any other situation but they are both too tired to care.

"Here drink some more water." Leonard offers, feeling utterly useless. There's really nothing he can do until they get more heroine.

Jim gives the glass a pointed look, "I'm just gonna throw that up too."

"I know, but we gotta at least try to put some fluids into you. God only knows how much you've eaten in the past couple of days." Leonard grumbles and Jim begins to chuckle after a five second delay, leaving him confused.

The blond pauses, worrying his lip with sharp teeth.

"Hey, hey kid you here?" Leonard reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling the shudder that races up the kid's spine at the moment of contact.

Jim snags away, "Yeah, yeah I'm here, where else would I be?"

Leonard just nods, "Okay, take it easy, here c'mon, at least try to drink this."

The slump of Jim's shoulders lets Leonard know he's given up being stubborn, so he hands the blond the glass, watching closely as the kid takes several gulps before setting it down.

"Feel better?" He prompts, and Jim goes to nod, but then there's the twisted pained expression on his face, and Leonard is barely able to help pull his head over the toilet before he starts heaving again.

Jim's body surges with the effort, hands fumbling for a grip on the rim, eyes squeezed shut, lungs forcefully shoving oxygen into his body.

"Take it easy kid, easy." Leonard rubs the blond's back until he settles down, "Alright, there you go kid." He continues murmuring, reaching out and stroking loose blond hairs.

But Jim pulls away, almost frantically.

"Shit, kid what's going on?"

Jim stares at him, clearly bewildered.

Leonard waits a moment, waiting for Jim to come to his senses.

"It's nothing. Sorry, it kinda makes me jumpy."

Jim doesn't have to say "what" makes him jumpy, Leonard already knows what he's referring to, but he's not buying it. But for both of their sakes, Leonard lets it slip by. He'll bug Jim about it during a more appropriate time, if it's still an issue that is.

"Okay, relax kid, it's just me." Leonard informs him carefully, making sure Jim can see where his hands are.

Jim's always been on the flighty side when it comes to people touching him, but he's never pulled away from Leonard's touch like this, and it's worrying Leonard. Something happened between the trial and now, and he's not just talking about the heroine.

"Bones." Jim slurs the name roughly.

"Yeah?" Leonard hums, sitting in front of Jim, a small smile quirking his lips.

The blond sluggishly reaches out, gripping Leonard's hand, though he can see the fight in Jim's eyes, the kid doesn't even want to make skin to skin contact.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah no problem kid. We got…" Leonard trails off and Jim brings himself back together, huddled against the tub. Leonard clears his throat, "I think we have to fix some things, fix some things about us, our friendship."

The smile that edges on Jim's lips is genuine and heartwarming.

"Yeah I agree. But…"

Leonard frowns, "But what?"

"But, let's do it sometime when I don't feel like I'm gonna-" Jim stops and lunges towards the toilet, basically throwing up his stomach at this point.

"Shit, that hurts like a bitch Bones." Jim wheezes, and he tightens his grip when the nausea surges again.

Leonard shakes his head, "Jim, please consider going to a hospital. I don't have enough supplies to care for you like this."

Jim shakes his head stubbornly, "No, no Medbay." The blond mutters breathlessly.

"Finnegan's back." Francis calls from the living area, and soon there are heavy footsteps and a loud exhale.

"Hey Jimmy." Finnegan pops into the bathroom, and instantly the blond brings himself more upright against the tub.

"Did you get some?" Leonard asks, standing up.

Finnegan nods, "Yeah, but I got it in liquid form."

Leonard shrugs, "Doesn't matter, I got some sterilized hypos in my medkit." He goes to head out of the room, slapping Finnegan on the shoulder, "I'll be right back."

He heads back into the living room, scooping his medkit up from the couch where Francis sits, arms crossed, eyes drooping in exhaustion.

"Dear god man, take a nap will you?" Leonard sighs, and heads back into the bathroom.

Francis merely frowns and exhales loudly.

Leonard heads back into the bathroom with a shake of his head.

"B-Bones." Jim's terrified voice makes him jump when he enters the small space, "Shit, Jimmy, calm down. I didn't do nothing." Finnegan mumbles, hands raised in surrender.

"That's a double negative you idiot, and give him some space will ya?" Leonard shoulders around Finnegan, kneeling in front of Jim, "Here, I'm going to give you a small dosage, it's gonna hurt but it'll put your body to ease." He says carefully, taking the small container from Finnegan and transferring it into a hypo.

Jim's eyes only widen in his deliriousness.

"Here, give me your arm kid." Leonard gesture for Jim to do so, but the kid looks straight through him, eyeing Finnegan who hovers over his shoulder.

Leonard groans, "Finnegan, can you please leave us?"

Finnegan flashes the pair a smile, "Of course, yeah."

Once alone, Leonard rubs a hand over his face, "Okay, the arm now."

Jim reluctantly outstretches his right arm, trembling with the effort. Leonard takes Jim's arm gently, wiping disinfectant over the inside of his elbow, keeping his gaze on the blond's glassy eyes.

"Alright, easy now. One two, three." Leonard slides the needle in and forces the liquid into Jim's system.

The kid's breathing picks up and he starts to jerk his arm away, either from the chemical or the needle itself, Leonard is uncertain.

"Okay-okay, it's done. Calm down kid."

Leonard stashes away the hypo and wipes the blood from the blond's arm.

"Breathe, deep breath Jim."

Jim eyes focus onto his and he follows his instructions, sucking in a shaky breath. Leonard smiles gently, "Good, good. Now let's get you back on the couch."

He brings Jim gracefully to his feet, with only a slight tremble in the kid's knees. Jim then clings onto his arm like a lifeline as Leonard leads him out of the bathroom and back into the living area.

Francis and Finnegan hop out of the way and make room for Jim on the couch, supplying a pillow and blanket into Leonard's hands before he can open his mouth to ask for them.

The blond has fallen into a somewhat calmed state, eyes beginning to flutter shut.

Leonard quirks a smile and puts the pillow beneath the kid's head and drapes the blanket over him.

"So, what now?" Finnegan heaves sigh, crossing his arms, casting the sleeping blond a glance, "We keep him here don't we?" Francis chirps almost hurriedly.

"He isn't a pet guys. And yes, for your information, Jim's staying here. I'm gonna keep him here until he's through the worst part of withdrawals." Leonard confirms, watching the blond's chest rise and fall.

"McCoy, Jim's missed two sessions." Francis states randomly, and both Leonard and Finnegan stare blankly at Francis, "Jim and I have to attend therapy sessions; he's already missed the first two." Francis elaborates.

Leonard groans, rubbing his face with his hands.

"So, what does that mean?" Finnegan grumbles with a shrug.

"It means, they're going to be looking for him Finnegan." Leonard snaps, "Damn it Jim."

"Yeah, he also hasn't been showing up to any classes, so he hasn't had an appearance in awhile now." Francis continues.

"Okay so, we give him a little walk around, make sure people see him." Finnegan suggests, "It's not other students we're worried about. It's professors, counselors-probably the Academy Board are going to be asking." Leonard growls flatly.

"Well, right now all we can do is keep him here." Francis sighs, "Yeah, keep him here until Monday." Finnegan adds with a smile.

"He should be through the worst by then yeah McCoy?"

Leonard glances over at Francis, and with a slow now he replies, "Yeah, he should be through the worst."

"Alright, so we're settled, keep him here until Monday." Finnegan announces triumphantly, "And if they start asking?" Francis prompts, "Then we tell them he isn't here." Leonard supplies.

They all nod an agreement.

"You two sticking around?" Leonard asks after a moment. They both nod.

Who the hell would've guessed, Jim's aggressive roommate with anger issues, the Starfleet Academy bully, and a grumpy old doctor all coming together for the same person, but all for different reasons. The roommate just wants to make it through the Academy, and Jim's odd absences and catering injuries and setbacks currently can get him kicked out. The school bully is here rather to keep hidden the heroin trade going around or he's here for his own amusement, Leonard's still not sure.

And then there's Leonard. He's here because whether Jim likes it or not, they're still friends. No matter how pissed he is, or how much he just wants to rip the blond's goddamn head off, they're friends, for better or worse.

"Ugh, déjà vu." Francis grumbles and stalks away to the kitchen.

Leonard cracks a smile. An odd group they may be, but they'll pull through together.

 **Author's Note: Okay, it's been way too long. The writer's block lasted for about three weeks, and the rest of the time it was me taking naps and doing nothing all day and night. My bad. I don't know how many stories I've written since my writer's block started, I could write like crazy, just not for this story? I don't even know what happened guys. So, sorry for the terribly long wait and I hope you guys don't all hate me now. This chapter is a little, well it's kind of ehh, but I'm trying to pick the momentum back up because I got some stuff I'm excited to write about coming up here. So thank you so much for sticking around! Suggestions are accepted! Live Long and Prosper.**


	25. Chapter 25

**"Apology doesn't mean that you were wrong, or the other person was right, it means that your relationship us more valuable than your ego."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 25**

Jim feels the beginning of the second wave of withdrawals early Sunday morning. The pain shoots through his spine, rattling his appendages, and sending a shit storm straight to his brain.

He groans, tossing over, not quite sure what's even beneath him anymore. It's soft and cushiony, the fabric sliding gracefully against his sweaty hands. Coolness seeps into his forehead, and he can feel droplets of sweat rolling down his cheeks. His stomach spasms and he curls tighter, a whimper escaping his cracked lips.

This is almost as bad as getting damn sepsis. But this drug withdrawal is a different pain. It's an aching pain, his desire, no his need for more. He craves it, causing his entire body to shiver. The yearning is a steady throb through his veins, lighting all of his nerves on fire. His and mind and body both cry the same plea: "more".

Slowly, Jim tries to sit up, wanting to open his eyes. But his arms tremble with the effort, not even able to lift himself an inch off of the soft surface. A scared moan whines in his throat, the feeling of being trapped overwhelming him.

The blond attempts to open his eyes, but he can't seem to get them to cooperate, his eyelids too tired to function.

Suddenly, a burning sensation rises from his gut, traveling up his throat, causing Jim to sputter and gag on his vomit. Jim grips the surface beneath, trying to pull himself onto his side to throw up, but he can't even do that.

Panic surges through him, the need to breathe becoming stronger with each passing heartbeat, causing a pain to rise in his chest.

So this is how Jim Kirk dies, choking on his own goddamn vomit. Pathetic

"Damn it Jim, I left you on your side for a reason!"

Hands grab him and yank him onto his right side and instantly the liquid leaves his mouth and he gasps for breath, oxygen filling his needy lungs.

"There ya go. Easy now."

Wheezy breaths escape him, and he can feel the panic and anxiety in his chest fade away.

"Sh-shit." Jim stutters, voice raspy and short.

The hands massage his skull, lulling him into a state of calm, "Yeah shit Jim, you're lucky I put you in the spare bed and not my own. I'd be pissed if you puked on my bed sheets."

"Bones…?"

"Yeah kid?"

The bed dips, the southerner's presence now known, sitting beside Jim's hip.

"I-I need." Jim grits out, blindly reaching out for Bones' hand, and it's met firmly, "No Jim."

"But-"

"I said no Jim."

Jim whines, attempting to kick Bones from the bed. Why the hell would Bones deprive him of this? Does the idiot know how much this hurts? Bones has no idea what kind of torture this is, he can't be serious.

"Bones-for the love of g-god!" He growls, continuing to act out, but Bones easily pins him down onto the bed, keeping him there, "Hey-hey Jim, it's just the withdrawals talking. Calm down Jimbo."

"I said I want more!" Jim bucks against the hands holding him down.

"Jim-Jim!" Bones yells grabbing his face, steadying him instantly.

The coldness of Bones' calloused hands brings his anxiety down immediately, and he goes limp beneath the southerner.

"Calm down kid. I know it hurts-no one said this was gonna be easy. Just take a breath and open your eyes for me kid." Bones instructs him and Jim groans, "I c-can't."

"Yes, you can, just calm yourself."

Jim nods, focusing his mind on opening his eyes, and slowly but surely, his eyes peel open, squinting hazily up at Bones.

The southerner smiles, "See? Now, deep breath, you're gonna be fine."

The blond does as he's told, inhaling and exhaling shakily, earning a grin from Bones.

"Now, do you wanna try to eat something? Francis said you haven't eaten in days."

Just the mention of food makes his stomach churn, the nausea rising once more. Almost desperately he shakes his head. Bones sighs, seeming disappointed.

"Alright, well let's get you sitting up. You seem awfully weak for someone who's just going through withdrawals." Bones grumbles, helping him sit up against the backboard.

Jim frowns, but nonetheless feels drained the moment he's upright. Bones makes himself at home right beside him. The blond stares out into nothingness. It's all pathetic and stupid. Here they are, thrown back together, Bones once more taking care of him, the familiar smell of vomit stained sheets filling their nostrils, and Jim practically shitting himself again.

Oh how the world repeats itself.

Why the hell is Bones even here? Shouldn't he just kick Jim out the nearest window after all this shit? Doesn't the southerner hate his guts? Isn't there just too much tension between them? After Hermione, him getting beat up, the trial. Just everything.

Even that damn conversation in the hospital, where Bones left him to cry. Because he couldn't swallow his damn pride and confide into Bones.

"Bones…" Jim starts, drawing his knees up to hug them close to his chest. Bones snaps from his daze, glancing over at him, "Yeah?"

"Just why…"

Bones shifts uncomfortably beside him, sighing, "Can't we talk about this when you're emotionally stable?"

Jim gives him a glare.

"Jim, just like two minutes ago you thought you couldn't open your damn eyes." Bones retorts, not meeting his gaze.

Jim makes a whining noise in the back of his throat, "C'mon Bones, why wait?"

"Because, you're half starved, shaking with fever, puking buckets, and craving that damn drug. You're in no condition to have a stressful conversation." Bones supplies, crossing his arms with that incredulous look on his face.

The blond purses his lips childishly, "But Bones!"

"Just get some rest, like I said, we'll talk about this when you're feeling better. How about we just focus on getting you through this. The real shit storm will be here soon."

He shivers involuntarily; he can't imagine this getting worse than it already is.

Damn, he's never going to get addicted to this shit again. Withdrawals are something he doesn't want to ever experience again after this.

"I'll be out there if you need me." Bones announces, sliding from the bed, but Jim reaches out and grabs his sleeve, "Stay?"

A smirk climbs onto Bones lips, "Alright, but I'm gonna clean up the mess you left."

Jim nods drowsily and watches Bones leave. He tries to stay awake until Bones comes back, but he's only vaguely aware of the southerner changing the blankets and scraping up the floor. Then there's a wash of warmth when Bones settles back onto the bed beside him, and by then, Jim's slumped over onto the pillow, eyes only cracked open.

"Just sleep kid." Bones whispers softly, stroking his hair back, causing Jim to finally shut his eyes and welcome the blackness.

When he awakes, an odd tingling sensation is running through his body. But as he wakes further, the sensation begins to burn, making his veins thump against his skin and his insides to churn and twist around his bones. The pain becomes one pulsing desire for the drug, his thirst and hunger is only for heroin, to have more.

Damn, Bones was right, the withdrawals do get worse.

Quivering, Jim curls into himself, huddling further into the blanket placed neatly over him. He can feel the damp mattress beneath him, and the chafing from sweat slick skin against sheets.

All he can think about is heroin. Breathing it in, the fiery rush up his nostrils and the buzzing warmth that floods through his body. The calm and sweet bliss of not feeling. Having his thoughts finally roam freely and his body simply going through the motions of time and space. He craves the feeling, he wants it back, he needs it.

His hands grasp the fabric tightly and he forces a breath into his shriveling lungs. The world seems to collapse around him and his eyes won't open again, they're clamped shut, afraid of what they might see. Then his knees draw up to his chest in attempt to ease his nauseas stomach, to bring a constant pressure into his gut to keep the rolling feeling away.

Jim feels like he's on a merry-go-round, only hanging upside down. The insistent feeling of being in motion causing his mind to drift and only come to back heroin. He can't control it and he can't get his mind off of it.

If he had more he wouldn't be feeling like this. Feeling like he's stuck and tied down with his world crumbling around him.

He shivers and a whimper blows softly through his chapped lips. He can feel his ribs begin to pinch in, caving in around his lungs and restricting his breath to a gasping wheeze.

It would be better if he was just dead. He shouldn't have come. He should've just overdosed like he planned. He can just imagine Francis finally walking into his room to find his cold lifeless body, nails and lips an ashy blue, limbs and chest motionless with his body collapsed on top of the desk, eyes unseeing. Surely his death would've been preferable?

"God you're such a moron."

Jim noticeably jumps, his breath hitching in his throat.

"You were mumbling Jim-and damn it, I'm glad you came Jim. I don't want you dead. Don't talk like that kid."

A body shifts against his and its then Jim realizes he's been holding onto Bones' shirt, his head resting on his chest. A hand then incases his head, petting gently.

"M's'rry' ones'." Jim mutters drowsily.

Bones' sigh rattles in his ear, "Just, hang in there kid alright?"

Jim nods determinedly into his chest.

"That's good, because damn it, we're definitely having that talk after this."

He manages a small smile, eyes squeezing shut.

"Get some sleep Jim."

Exhaustion consumes him.

When he wakes up, he's alone on the bed, shaking violently. His craving has become a gaping hole. He feels utterly empty, a void in his heart.

Slowly, his eyes open, taking in the dark room about, but guessing from the bright sunlight peeking through the window's blinds, he guesses it's somewhere around noon. He turns his head too fast, and he feels the throb of a headache pound against the forefront of his skull, causing him to groan and massage his temples. Greedily he takes the glass of water on the nightstand, his dry throat relishing in the cold liquid, but his stomach twists with the consumption.

Sighing, the water doesn't seem to fill him, he's becoming restless and tired of wanting and yearning for something he can no longer have. It physically pains him not to have any.

Jim moans, bringing his knees to his chest while he sits and begins to gently rock himself, desperately trying to get his mind off of it. His hands start to rub his biceps, his whole body sticky with sweat.

The headache doesn't stop banging, and his rocking continues. His breathing shortens and he can see the room spin away, so he puts his head between his knees, hoping to anchor himself.

The door creaks open, darn old-fashioned door, making Jim startle on the bed. Bones appears, visibly swallowing, eyes taking in the sight of Jim. Damn, he must not look too good.

"Jim…?" Bones voice is light, just above a whisper and full of such concern it makes Jim nearly tremble, "I'm okay." He says quietly and mentally face-palms before clearing his throat to pipe up, "I drank the water."

Bones nods knowingly, "Good…good."

Jim frowns, something's wrong, "Bones, what's…is something going on?"

The southerner shakes his head, "No, sorry-umm. It's been a long day."

Jim just nods, watching Bones' movements. The man hesitantly enters the room, shutting the door smoothly behind him. Bones' eyes then scan through the room, avoiding Jim's penetrating gaze. There's something on his mind.

"Bones…" Jim prompts, forcing his limbs to stop quivering by bringing the blanket up towards his chest and holding it there tightly, Bones finally glances up and sighs, "Was it you?"

"Huh?" Jim splutters, confused.

"That night-I was pretty damn drunk and I thought…I thought I saw you."

Jim narrows his eyes at him. What the hell is Bones blabbing about?

"I was standing on the damned hill and I thought for a moment I saw someone staring at me, but I guess it wasn't you then." Bones continues, eyes averting to the floor.

Jim smiles and snorts a laugh, "That was me Bones."

Bones doesn't laugh though, he stares deeply into Jim's eyes and he shivers, but not because of the withdrawals, "Bones…"

"Were you high that night?"

"Bones please-"

"The night you tried to get into my room and I called you drunk?-Were you high that night? The night I shoved you to the floor?" Bones asks desperately and Jim swallows, meeting the southerner's gaze.

Jim's voice quiets and he lowers his head shamefully as he whispers, "Bones don't do this to yourself."

Bones' gaze turns into a glare as he stands leaning against the wall by the door, "Goddamn it Jim, answer the question!"

"Why? So you can beat yourself up about it? Bones I had no right showing up at your door like that! I shouldn't have been there and you can't blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault!" Jim snaps defensively and Bones takes a step forward, "Shut up! You goddamn brat! I should've known you were high! I knew you were acting strange!"

Bones takes a collective breath, composing himself, "I should've come to you sooner, I should've checked in on you. I knew something was up. I didn't see you at classes or in the cafeteria anymore. People were talking Jim-and I didn't even bother comming you. God I'm such an asshole." The southerner rubs his face wearily, eyes squeezed shut.

Slowly, Jim slides his feet to the ground, "Bones…damn it. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I was way over my head-I just. I wanted to feel like a person-I wanted to just feel something-with Hermione I felt useless and empty. I just thought…I thought that this would make me feel alive." Jim comes beside Bones, pulling his hands from his face.

Bones' eyes search him, "Jim, what are you talking about?"

"The fight Bones. That goddamn fight that started everything. I thought if Francis beat me up, that I'd feel something again. I was tired Bones, I…That month of no fighting made me feel worthless and I thought if I could just have the feeling of being beat up again, that it'd make me feel better-and then I felt guilty for wasting my time with Hermione instead of spending time with you when you needed me because of your daughter, Joanna…"

"Jim," Bones breathes heavily, "you're blaming yourself for not being there for me?"

"Bones you threw a beer bottle at my head! I obviously did something wrong!" Jim exasperates, shaking on his feet.

"Jim that was one time. Yeah I was mad but I didn't want to make you feel so guilty that you thought that you had to be beaten up by Francis…"

Ocean meets Earth.

"Kid," Bones grasps his shoulders, "I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I'm sorry that I yelled at you in the hospital and I'm sorry that I ever said you weren't good enough…"

Jim tries to stay strong but a strangled noise escapes his throat and he can feel Bones' grip tightening.

"Listen to me kid. You deserve so much more than you think. You don't deserve to be beaten up, and you don't deserve to be used by someone else like Hermione did to you."

"But Bones, I yelled at you and I pushed you away-I said I'd be good but I wasn't! I treated you like shit Bones." Jim replies softly, his vision blurring with welling tears.

"Yeah? And I treated you like shit too." Bones chuckles nervously, "I think we both owe each other an apology-because damn it, we were quite a duo."

Jim nods, a small smile creeping on his lips, "Yeah, we were."

The hands adjust their grip on his shoulders and Jim looks up at Bones.

"Jim, I'm sorry for everything I've said and everything I did to you, I was unfair and I should've talked to you at the hospital after our argument, and not run away from it. I'm sorry that I seemed unapproachable, I should've known you were hurting…I guess I just couldn't swallow my own damn pride to talk to you sooner."

"Bones-"

Bones raises a hand to silence him.

"Jim, I don't want you to feel like that anymore-I don't want you to feel like you need to be abused to feel alive-and I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me about anything. Jim, I'm not trying to figure you out or something, you're not some puzzle-you're a human being-actually, you're my favorite human Jim and I want to be your favorite human too."

A sob emits from his throat and Jim wipes away the tears quickly, a stupid broken grin plastered on his face, "Damn it Bones-I'm sorry too, I should've been more open and understanding. I shouldn't have pushed you away like I did-I guess I just got scared and paranoid. I thought you just wanted to know me because I'm George Kirk's son, I thought you were just like any other of those curious bastards-but you're not and I realize that now…Bones I'm sorry and I promise I'll be more open-I'll actually answer your questions, I'll try my best."

He takes a settling breath, "I'll be good, I promise."

Bones nods, tears glistening in his own eyes.

"And damn it Bones of course you're my favorite human."

"Come here you little shithead."

Bones wraps him into an embrace.

Warmth floods through Jim's body and he stops shivering. The calm settles his nerves and he feels like he can finally breathe, like he'd been holding his breath for these past several weeks, so he breathes in Bones' scent, relishing in it.

He has his arms around Bones' waist, head buried into his chest with Bones' arms about his neck, chin resting in his blond hair.

Damn, he's going to keep his promise this time, because he can't screw this up again. He'll have to come clean about everything if he wants to keep Bones. He can't lose this man, not again, and not ever, he's not sure if he'll be able to live without him.

He promised that he'd be good and he's damn determined to actually do it this time.

 **Author's Note: Finally, they've apologized! Ugh it's so hard writing them apart and I hate it because they have such great chemistry together. I'm excited to write them as friends again so I can make them get into more trouble, because what else would I be making them do? I hope you've enjoyed it thus far and stick around for the long haul because I'm not even close to being halfway there. They have three years in the academy and I'm not even halfway through their first year…so yeah there's a lot more to come and a lot more to be planned. If you have any questions or suggestions feel free to ask and tell me. Thanks for everything guys! Live Long and Prosper.**


	26. Chapter 26

**"One step at a time. One day at a time. One hour at a time."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 26**

"It's alright, I gotch'you."

Thud.

"Damn it."

Stumble.

"Hold still."

Moan.

"Gimme a second."

Splash.

"Shit, it's everywhere."

Whimper.

"Alright, on three."

Nod.

"One, two, three."

Pull.

"Okay in you go."

Thump.

"Just sit there, cool down."

Leonard sighs, turning the water just a tinge bit colder. Jim's fever began to spike and the vomiting got worse along with his stomach cramps. It's Sunday afternoon, nearing dinnertime and Jim hasn't touched any food yet.

If the stress of the situation doesn't kill him, the Academy Board sure will.

"Thanks Bones."

Leonard glances down at the mess he calls friend once more.

He was planning on having the talk later, but once he started talking he couldn't stop and it all just sort of spilled out. And now that it's over with, he had felt the instant relief but now the reality of getting Jim through this hit him like a shuttle crash-which reminds him (on a totally unrelatable topic), the Academy Board gave him the go ahead on his astrophobia seminar idea.

Suddenly he coughs, remembering that Jim is staring up at him.

"Yeah, no problem kid."

A smile edges his lips. He'd tossed the kid straight into the bathtub once he realized the fever wasn't going down and he'd ran out of hypos two hours ago, well at least the ones Jim wasn't allergic to.

Though, Leonard supposed after today Jim will be through the worst of it.

"McCoy!"

He snaps up, finding Francis at the doorway, "It's Captain Pike."

"He commed me?" Leonard asks.

Francis shakes his head, "No he's at your front door."

"Shit." Leonard curses, scratching at his growing beard.

Francis nods hurriedly, "Yeah Finnegan kinda answered your door for you."

"Shit." Leonard repeats, "Watch him." He orders, pushing Francis towards Jim and quickly making for the front door where Finnegan chats mindlessly to the captain.

"Cadet McCoy." Captain Pike addresses him sternly, cutting Finnegan off midsentence.

He swallows and nods, "Yes sir?"

"It has come to our attention that Cadet Kirk has not been attending classes and has skipped two required sessions with the Academy's therapist." Captain Pike explains, crossing his arms and staring accusingly at Leonard, "Do you happen to know of his whereabouts cadet?"

"No sir."

The captain glares him down, eyes narrowing, "Where is Cadet Donovan?"

"Right here sir." Francis appears from the bathroom, shutting the door with the bathroom light off.

"Where is your roommate cadet?"

Francis eyes Leonard and glances back to Pike, "I don't know sir."

"You don't know huh?" Pike prompts with a huff, glaring them all down, "Cadet Finnegan, do you happen to know of Cadet Kirk's whereabouts?"

Finnegan straightens further at the mention of his name, "No sir, I do not."

"You're telling me none of you know where Cadet Kirk is?"

"That's correct Captain Pike, sir." Finnegan pipes up boldly.

"So you're telling me if I send a search team they won't find him here?"

They all hold their breath collectively.

"Cadet McCoy, may I speak to you privately?"

Leonard frowns, but quickly fixes his expression, "Yes, of course sir."

Pike nods, "Excuse us gentlemen."

"Yes sir." Finnegan and Francis head into the spare bedroom, shutting the door behind themselves.

Captain Pike takes a moment to watch the door close before turning his attention to Leonard, eyeing him carefully. Leonard can feel his heart pound in his chest, questions swirling around in his brain. Man they're screwed really screwed.

"Look, cadet," Pike begins, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder, "I know he's here, so there's no point in lying to me."

Leonard opens his mouth to argue, but snaps it shut when Pike continues, "Let me guess, the closest? Maybe, the bathroom?" Pike smirks and Leonard presses his lips into a firm line, not letting a sound escape.

"It's alright Cadet McCoy, I'm not going to search your room, actually, I don't want to know where he is. If there's one thing I've learned about Jim Kirk, it's that he's always tangled up in trouble." Captain Pike states firmly and Leonard blows out a nervous chuckle, "Well sir, if you're not here to look for him, why are you here? If you mind me asking."

Pike smiles, "I know Kirk's in trouble with his professors right now, so, I'll give you a little cushion. I'll keep the Academy Board off of your back for a few days so you can get him back on his feet."

"Excuse me, sir?" Leonard stutters, his face bewildered. Why is Captain Pike helping them? Why does he even care what happens to Jim Kirk?

"I knew George, he was a good man, it's the least I can do. Give his son another chance." Pike nods and heads for the door, "Just get the idiot going again, or he'll seriously be in trouble."

Leonard watches Pike leave, mouth hanging open.

Jim Kirk apparently does have a little luck on his side after all.

"What was that all about?" Finnegan prompts, stepping out of the room followed closely by Francis, "Are we in trouble?" Jim's roommate asks.

Leonard shakes his head, "Pike is buying us a couple days to get Jim straightened out and back to normal." He explains coolly.

Finnegan snorts, "Why?"

"I don't know." Leonard replies, staring at the door, until a loud thud emits from the bathroom and all three of them share a glance, remembering that they had left Jim Kirk, in a bathtub, in the dark, all alone.

"Jim?" They call in unison, Leonard the first to open the door and switch on the lights manually.

There's a gurgled "f you" followed by Jim vomiting onto the floor, clinging onto the bathtub's edge.

Francis grimaces and flees from the bathroom rather quickly, leaving a snickering Finnegan and a disgusted Leonard.

"Couldn't you just have done that in the water?" Jake Finnegan grumbles.

"It's not like you're gonna clean it."

The bully laughs, "Yeah, you're right Lenny."

Leonard scowls, "Lenny?"

"Yeah, it's a nickname. Get used to it."

"God, I'm just the one for god-awful nicknames aren't I?" Leonard groans, turning his attention to Jim, avoiding the puddles of vomit, "Hey Jim," He taps the blond's face, feeling the feverish heat leave his body, "I'm gonna get you out now okay? Dry off and get some clean clothes for you."

Jim's reply is simply a moan.

"Finnegan can you-"

"Get some clothes, got it." Finnegan fills in and quickly dashes out.

Leonard sighs, "You guys are going to be the end of me."

"Alright, ready Jim?" He asks, stroking back the water soaked hairs.

Jim nods, eyes drowsily staring up at him expectantly.

"Okay," Leonard says, shutting the bathroom door before coming back and helping Jim stand within the tub. He then brings a towel around his friend's bare body and helps him sit down onto the toilet.

Finnegan steps back in as Leonard pulls the old fashioned plug and the water drains away.

"Here, I got some of your clothes Lenny."

Leonard grunts, "What other clothes would there be?"

Finnegan shrugs helplessly.

"Just get out." Leonard shoos him out, once more closing the door.

"Lenny huh?" The blond smiles, his voice weak and grating.

"Yeah, Finnegan, he's rather fond of nicknames." Leonard smirks, snatching another towel to dry off Jim's hair, though he supposes it only serves to ruffle it more than anything else.

Leonard goes to grab the clothes but Jim pipes up, "I think I can dress myself."

He nearly falters. Of course Jim can do it himself. The blond is looking slightly better than before and is more than likely very damn capable of dressing himself. Leonard perhaps just got too carried away in his 'doctor mode' to notice.

"Oh yeah, of course. Yeah sorry-I'll umm, I'll step out." Leonard falters, biting his tongue to stop himself from looking like a further fool.

Jim graces him with a smile, "Chill Bones, I knew what you were trynna do."

"Oh yeah, and what was that exactly?"

"You were trying to check me out!" Jim exclaims with one of those shit-eating grins that serves to infuriate Leonard, "Oh you bastard! Just get dressed already." Leonard growls, stalking out of the bathroom, though they both know neither one meant it; it was just their way of going back to normal. Joking, they were both joking.

Though if Jim checked his ass out on the way out, nobody said anything.

Leonard takes the next couple minutes to disappear into the couch, letting his mind drift away into the soft murmurs of Francis and Finnegan discussing who the hell knows what.

Then there's a damn knock on the door and everybody freezes.

Did Pike come back? Did he lie to them? Did he send a search party for Jim? God they are all screwed. They're all going to get kicked out because Jim couldn't save his own ass. Damn, does it really have to end this way?

"Well go on. Answer it Lenny!" Finnegan chirps from the kitchen and Leonard sends an icy glare his way to shut him up.

Somewhat cautiously he opens the door, sliding back to reveal a head of red curls and a big smile.

"Pavel?" Leonard announces, head cocked to the side in confusion.

What the hell is the kid doing here?

"Hey Leonard!" Chekov squeaks excitedly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in possibly?"

Leonard shakes his head, "Now is not the bestest of times Pavel."

"Leonard, it's about Jim. Hikaru and I haven't seen him-and now his roommate is gone!"

"Pavel," Leonard raises a hand to silence him, "Look, I can explain everything, but not now-this is not a great time."

Chekov seems disappointed, but he sighs a nods, "Okay, I will see you later then."

"Alright, see ya' later Pavel."

Leonard shuts the door, wanting to bang his head against it.

"Why'd you send him away?" Jim croaks from the bathroom doorway, staring rather curiously at Leonard, blue eyes gleaming, "Jim, I can't have word spread that I have you, you're damn roommate and the school bully all hiding out in my room!"

"Hey!" Francis whines and Finnegan huffs but keeps his mouth closed.

Jim just nods slowly, swaying and adjusting his grip on the doorframe.

Leonard comes beside him, slinging his arm about his own shoulders to gently steer him to the couch. Jim's wearing Leonard's sweatpants, and a button up nightshirt, but the buttons are misaligned, which bugs Leonard's OCD side, yet he makes no comment on the matter.

Jim hits the couch cushions with a sigh, and Leonard can't get the smile off of his face. Slowly he pulls a blanket over the kid's body, squeezing his arm reassuringly before heading to the kitchen to join the others.

"So, is he gonna pull through McCoy?" Francis questions.

Leonard crosses his arms, staring over towards the couch, "Yeah he'll make it. But I need to put some damn fluids into him or he won't."

"How about some soup?" Finnegan prompts.

"Yeah that'll work, but he's going to be throwing up all night, and he's also not gonna wanna eat it in the first place."

"So what?" Francis huffs, staring blankly at Leonard, "Which means," Leonard adds a bit of emphasis on his words, "that we're in for a long night."

"Hope you boys don't mind cleaning up vomit." Leonard comments.

Francis grimaces.

"Why don't you go and practice?" Leonard taps Francis' shoulder much to the man's dismay, "There's vomit all over my bathroom floor."

Francis can only give him a glare, but obliges anyways, making Finnegan chuckle.

"You can get me some soup."

"Or what?" Finnegan sneers.

"Heroin."

"Good point."

Leonard grins, watching the goons get to work. He's got dirt on both of them, but neither of them have anything on him. If Jim gets discovered, Francis would get kicked out for sure, after the whole trial and now this. Finnegan would be gone too; all they had to do is trance the heroin to him which wouldn't be too hard. And it all depends on whether or not Jim gets caught here.

They can't let that happen.

Within a couple hours, Sunday, November 11th, is fading away with the sunlight. Francis is wiped out at the kitchen table, head buried into his elbows while slouched over the table surface. Finnegan is still awake, eyeing Leonard and Jim from across the room.

Leonard's got Jim sitting up on the couch, propped with pillows, with a bucket placed cautiously on the ground beside him.

Watching carefully, Jim's hands tremble as they hold the small bowl of soup, spoon nearly slipping through sweaty fingers. Jim's only taken several bites of the soup making Leonard frown and force more into him.

"Bones…I'm full." Jim complains, beginning to place the bowl down, but Leonard reaches out, grasping his wrist, "You need to eat all of it."

"Bones…" Jim whines, slumping against the pillows as he pouts, "Hey, don't spill any of it. Eat it up. It's good for you." Leonard urges, meeting Jim's steady glare, "If you eat it, maybe we'll watch one of those movies of yours." He suggests.

"Like Fight Club!" The blond bursts out and Leonard is barely able to stabilize the bowl in the kid's hands before it falls into his own damn lap, "Yes…like Fight Club." Leonard groans, making sure Jim has a firmer grip on the soup.

There's a smile on the kid's lips as he devours the soup, not even taking the time to chew, only to swallow it down. Leonard grimaces, Jim's going to regret that later, that's for sure.

"Alright, I'm gonna grab my PADD and hook it up to the TV." Leonard explains as he gets up, patting Jim's shoulder, "Be right back."

It takes Leonard an embarrassing ten minutes to connect his PADD to the television, sending multiple curses Finnegan's and Jim's way that serve to wake up Francis who grumbles his complaint from the table.

"What are we watching?" Francis asks, plopping down onto the ground a few feet away from Finnegan who lies sprawled out before the screen.

"Fight Club." Leonard informs him, hopping beside Jim who already seems a bit queasy from his meal.

He turns on the movie with ease and soon enough all four of them are tugged into the entertainment. Leonard actually forgets about all his stress. His worries seem to melt away into the oblivion and the weight from his chest is lifted away, allowing him to breathe.

That's until Jim yanks his sleeve, clearly starting to gag.

"Jim!" Leonard snaps into action, grabbing the bucket and thrusting it into Jim's lap right before the blond heaves the soup out.

Jim gasps for breath, gripping the sides tightly and blinking fiercely.

"Hey, hey it's okay kid." Leonard soothes, placing a hand on Jim's neck as the kid hunches over the bucket, and his other hand finding its way onto the blond's shoulder, "Breathe, its okay."

The kid nods shakily, sniffling wetly.

"More soup?" Finnegan asks and Leonard nods, pausing the movie and placing the bucket on the ground.

Jim's eyes widen, "No more, Bones I can't." The kid pleads, bringing his arms around his stomach as if to protect it.

"Jim, I can't hook you up to and IV and I need to get some calories into you."

"Hey, what about some Gatorade?" Francis prompts with a shrug, getting to his feet, "I think I have some back at my dorm."

Leonard nods, "Thanks, yeah that'll work."

"Alright, I'll head over and grab it now."

As Francis leaves, Finnegan takes his place with a new bowl of soup. Jim watches the bully's movements carefully, as if expecting Finnegan to lash out at him. Leonard wants to ask, but decides now is not the time for that conversation.

Leonard takes the bowl with a nod, turning his attention back to Jim, who sits deathly pale before him, but his eyes gleam an exuberant blue.

"Bones I don't wanna eat." Jim whines, shaking his head at the gestured bowl.

Sighing, he grabs Jim's wrist, guiding the kid's hand to clasp onto the bowl, "Eat up."

Jim's eyes meet his briefly before the kid nods, daring to take the first bite. This would all be much easier with an IV hook up, but with them in not such great terms with the Academy Board, taking Jim to medical is out of question, unless it's an emergency. They're looking at the possibility of being thrown out on their asses.

"Taste good?" Leonard jokes and Jim gives him a look, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

"Remind me next time when you're sick to shove a bowl of soup down your throat." Jim grumbles, chewing and swallowing slowly.

"That'll be no fun, you have a terrible bedside manner." Leonard grins, smacking Jim's knee playfully, causing a smile to spread on Jim's lips, "At least I have a bedside manner. You treat everyone like a klingon criminal that just committed mass murder on village."

"Thanks Jim, you kinda hurt my feelings." Leonard mockingly places a hand over his heart and Jim gives him the stink eye, "At least now we know you have a heart." The blond retorts and Leonard barely refrains from slapping him over the head, remembering that the kid is still sick and is just able to gag down his soup.

"You two should get married. I'll go to the wedding." Finnegan chuckles and Jim replies so fast Leonard can't help but wonder if Jim was just waiting for the school bully to open his mouth, "Finnegan if I ever get married, you'll be the last person in this universe that I'd invite."

"Woah okay, calm down Jimmy. Maybe you just haven't gotten to know me enough." Finnegan smirks and the blond's gaze doesn't waver on him, "I think I know you well enough Jake." Jim spits the name, glaring at the bully as if daring him to say anything else.

But the bully clamps his mouth shut, rethinking his words, "I'm gonna grab some food, if you don't mind Lenny."

Leonard shakes his head and stares at Finnegan as he makes for the kitchen.

"What was that about?" He whispers over to Jim, whose gaze has fallen onto the half emptied bowl of soup, "It's nothin', don't worry about it."

Leonard purses his lips but says no more.

Jim barely finishes the bowl just in time for Francis to burst through the door, a pack of Gatorades in hand. Leonard gets up to meet Francis, showing him where to place the package on the table. When he gets back to Jim, the kid is hunched over puking his guts out into the bucket.

"Damn it kid."

Jim's shivering frantically; eyes squeezed shut as his stomach heaves its contents out.

"It's alright, breathe kid." Leonard instructs, gently placing a cool hand on Jim's overheated neck, feeling the tremor race up the blond's spine at the contact.

"Wanna try some Gatorade?" Francis offers, coming beside them with a bottle of red liquid.

Jim grunts, shaking his head as he shakily places the bucket on the ground and wipes his mouth with his sleeve-thus reminding Leonard, that the kid is wearing his shirt. Jim probably has more of Leonard's clothes in his closest than his own.

He takes the bottle from Francis, shoving it into the kid's hands urgently, "Drink up or I'll force the soup down your throat."

Jim gives him a glare, "Just wait until you're the sick one." The kid grumbles, snatching the drink and fumbling with the cap, which he refuses to let Leonard help him with.

The blond drinks about a third of it before handing it back to Leonard, giving him a little smile.

"Feel like you're gonna throw up again?"

"No." Jim replies, placing a hand over his stomach.

He nods and sets the Gatorade bottle on the floor within Jim's reach.

With Finnegan eating, Francis and Leonard clean out the bucket before putting it back beside Jim. By the time they're done, the school bully has rejoined the living room, all ready for a movie. Leonard can only sigh and hit the play button for Fight Club. And by god, he loves the smile that casually creeps onto his friend's face as he watches the movie.

A warm feeling spreads within his chest. Their friendship might not be alright now, but it'll be fixed soon, and it's going to be better than before. He can feel it.

 **Author's Note: So here's another chapter, and boy I'm excited to write some Jim and Bones! Without them being mad at each other! This chapter is just another step in the road to recovery for Jim, though it won't be easy. Even though the addiction part is coming to end, there are still plenty of loose ends to tie up here. Anyhow, I'm hoping to bring Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov back into the mix (since they are some of my favorite characters). The next couple of chapters will go back into their life in classes and I'm hoping to throw around some crazy stuff in there, so until next time! Live Long and Prosper.**


	27. Chapter 27

**"It's strange how we find the best of friends in the most unexpected people."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 27**

His body is oddly stiff, the quiet of the room deafening in his ears. He shifts, a low moan emitting from his throat causing the pain to flare up from the raw tissue.

Yeah that's right, he spent all last night puking up soup and Gatorade. That explains the sore throat. And damn, it feels like he chewed on broken glass for a few hours. Though apparently stomach acid will do that to a person.

The smell that runs up his nose is unheavenly and far from the southern sweetness that Bones carries about his person. No, this stench is sour and musky, making his stomach twist. It's his own damn vomit that he's smelling, realizing the bucket is placed right below him. This brings him to see Bones, camped out with blankets and a pillow, a couple feet away.

Grunting, Jim forces his elbows underneath him as he struggles to sit up, vision briefly dancing away as stars swarm around him. He blinks, eyes focusing as he tugs his feet to the ground, sending a shiver up his spine.

Jim breathes a sigh, which comes out more of a wheezy gasp and all his thoughts travel to one word, water.

As much as he wants water, he also doesn't want to awaken Bones. The southerner is probably more tired than him, after babysitting his ass all night.

With new determination, Jim springs off the couch, nearly tipping forward, but takes large step forward to balance himself, his foot landing inches from Bones' face-but damn, the way Bones' face is scrunched up in his sleep is adorable and Jim almost laughs.

Shaking his head, he makes himself look away, remembering his mission: water. Because his dry throat isn't going to fix itself, that's for sure. It feels like a desert in there, a desert full of cacti.

Taking a step, rather cautiously, Bones' half snort half grunt causes Jim to freeze and bite his tongue, a smile spreading wide on his face. What Bones is dreaming of Jim can only wonder, though the disgust now written across the southerner's face leads Jim to assume that it probably has something to do with him and not the man's sweet mama's southern cooking that he likes to brag about.

Then there's a frown, one of those deep scowls that Bones saves for him when he does something utterly stupid and now Jim is snickering above the southerner's head. But then those snickers turn into coughs and Jim swings around, leaning over the couch instead of Bones' head.

"Sounds like you're hacking up a storm." Bones grumbles, voice hoarse from sleep.

Jim releases one last cough into his elbow before cocking his head over his shoulder, gazing at the slumped figure on the floor, "Might as well be, my throat feels like you shoved a scalpel down it."

"Oh quit your whining baby. Want some water?"

Aww yes, water. That was his whole mission in the first place, to get water. Until Bones' face and animalistic noises distracted him and ultimately ruined any chance of him making it to the kitchen without laughing his ass off.

"Yeah."

Bones frowns.

Jim clears his throat, trying again, "Yes."

The southerner smiles, getting up and stretching, "Alright, gimme a second and sit down before you fall over, infant."

He tries to glare, but underneath is a grin as he plops onto the couch, sighing and relaxing his muscles in hopes of getting rid of the ache in his bones.

Bones comes back around with a glass of water, handing it to him carefully before proceeding to land onto the couch himself, exhaling loudly and turning his head to watch Jim chug down the water almost desperately.

"Thanks." Jim says, placing the cup on the ground.

The southerner just shrugs.

"Where's F-"

"Back at their dorms-I kicked them out. Weren't much help anyways."

Jim nods, coughing again to clear his throat. It's somewhat weird to be alone with just Bones again. There's just been so much going on, ever since October 24th; there's just been chaos between them. But this, this is just sitting beside each other, in a room that smells heavily of vomit and sweat, with nothing but themselves to pass the time.

"It's Monday afternoon ya'know. You slept through most of the day-though you were quite delirious Sunday night, fever kicked your ass pretty good."

"Aww, thanks Bones. Good to know you were keeping track of the score."

Bones just smiles and nods his head, "Hey, I got a class in ten minutes, you okay alone for a few hours?"

Jim quickly nods his head, "Yeah of course, go. You're probably behind as it is."

"Damn right kid." Bones replies jokingly, though Jim turns away, feeling slightly guilty.

He was looking forward to a day spent with Bones, and even though it's only going to be for a few hours, he can't help but be disappointed that Bones is leaving him so soon. But he can't let that show on his face, so he plasters on a smile.

"Whatever, I have more catching up than you." He manages with that stupid grin on his face, the one that drives Bones insane-and there he is, shaking his head disgustedly at him, "Try not to burn down my dorm yeah?" Bones grumbles, snatching up his prepared things.

So Bones was already planning on leaving.

"I'll try to refrain, but sometimes I just can't." Jim responds, watching Bones head for the door, "Behave, please?"

It's more of an order than a plea.

Jim nods, "Of course."

He doesn't say the words-because he's used them too many times and each time has lied. He never really has been good-not ever. And now isn't any exception to that.

Bones nods, eyes narrowing as he seems to pick up on the missing statement, but nonetheless the southerner steps through the door, and it closes, blocking Jim from the outside world.

Sighing, Jim pulls his legs up onto the couch, tugging the blanket up under his chin and collapsing back into the cushions. He has a long two hours ahead of him. If he recalls correctly, Bones is heading for his Organic Chemistry class, which means it's almost two o'clock.

Damn, he feels utterly useless. The need for heroin is slowly fading, but it's still a constant pulsing need in the back of his brain. His days spent on heroin are a fog now, all one giant blurry mess. Just another chapter of his life, and it fits in with the rest-knowing his god awful childhood, heroin doesn't even seem that bad.

Slumping, his eyes begin to flutter shut, his body exhausted and weak from last night's battle-puking his guts out that is.

He couldn't have been asleep for more than twenty minutes when there's a knock on the door, waking Jim from his dreamless slumber.

Jim groans, glaring at the door as if it'd open itself under his gaze.

"What?" He calls loudly from the couch, but nobody replies, just another knock at the door, "Damn it all to hell." Jim grumbles, hopping to his feet and tiredly stumbling over to the door, waving his hand over the sensor to open it.

"Jim! You're alive!"

He's enveloped into a hug and for a second, Jim swears he's being suffocated, until those familiar red curls catch in his mouth and he ends up coughing all over the boy's head.

"You feeling all right?" Pavel asks innocently, staring up at him with those big gleaming eyes.

Jim sniffs, nodding, "Yeah, just a little under the weather, that's all."

"Where's Leonard?"

Jim waves a lazy hand, blinking his eyes to clear his vision, "Ah, at class."

The Russian kid nods, seemingly bouncing on his feet in excitement, "Do you think you could come out for a little bit? Hikaru and I haven't seen you in days!"

He bites his tongue, leaning on the doorframe now, "I don't think now's such a great time Pav…"

The redhead frowns at him, head cocking to the side, "Why not?"

Jim resists the urge to sigh, the kid's fourteen, "I'm still not feeling the best-and besides, Bones would have my ass for a rug if I leave this room."

Pavel manages a laugh, "Well, I'm glad you two seem to be friends again."

Swallowing, Jim nods. Of course word would spread around campus. The "inseparable outcasts" as some would call them were separated.

"Yeah-yeah. We talked about it. I think we're going back to normal."

A huge smile forms on the boy's lips, "Oh that's great Jim! I hate it when you guys fight."

"Yeah, me too Pav."

There's a pause, so Jim fills in quickly, "Look uhh, by tomorrow I should be feeling up for anything you want to do. Right now I got a headache that I need to sleep off."

Yet, Pavel smiles at him, "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow Jim. Hope you feel better!"

The redhead then skips away and Jim could only wish he could feel the same way. He just feels so damn tired.

Sighing, he closes the door and heads back to the couch. He crashes into it, face first, letting his body sink into the cushions. Slowly the tension leaks from his body, tension that he didn't know was lingering in his muscles.

Without thinking, he falls asleep effortlessly.

He's not awakened until there's a very large thud at the doorway.

Jim springs from the couch, instantly regretting his choice and clutching his skull like it might fall off. He needs to drink more water or this headache is going to make his head fall off, and that's a fact.

"Hey Jim, sorry I'm late." Bones voice comes from behind the couch, his boots scuffing against the floor. The southerner must be exhausted.

Jim frowns. Late. Huh, can't be that late.

"What time is it?" He asks, peeking over the couch, watching Bones dump his bag and boots onto the floor, the look of relief on his face, "Uh, around five."

He stares at Bones, blinking a few times, "Oh, okay. Got any food with you?"

Bones rolls his eyes, "You haven't changed."

Jim groans, "Bones, please. I'm starving." He complains, tossing himself back face down onto the couch, moaning deeply until something heavy and hot lands on his ass, "Shit, Bones."

He flips over, catching the box before it hits the ground.

"Bones you got the most cheap ass pizza on this end of the galaxy, Mars has better pizza than this."

The southerner shakes his head as he comes around the couch, "Jim, nobody lives on Mars, let alone makes pizzas there. Stop being a whiny bitch and eat your food."

Jim grins happily up at his friend.

"Infant."

"I want a plate." He demands.

"I don't have plates to spare. Just eat it out of the box for god's sake man." Bones grumbles, plopping down onto the couch, shoving him over despite his high pitched whines, "Damn it Jim, I don't want your feet in my lap."

"Yeah well, I don't want my feet to be cold." He retorts and Bones gives him a look that makes him immediately place his feet on the ground, knowing that if he pushes it any further he'll be tossed out the door. And that means he'd have no pizza.

Jim takes a slice out, handing it to Bones before picking a slice for himself. Man, he didn't realize how hungry he was until he started eating, and once he started he couldn't stop. He ate half the box right then and there and Bones only sat back and watched.

"If you throw up, you're cleaning it up."

Jim smirks, "I'm fine. Told ya I was starving."

"No kidding."

Bones gets up, brushing the crumbs from his shirt, "Thirsty?"

Jim nods.

The southerner disappears only momentarily before reappearing with a glass of water, handing it to Jim, carefully as not to spill it.

"Thanks." Jim chirps, taking a few gulps, finding the cold water refreshing.

Bones hums his response, sitting back down.

"You ready for history tomorrow?" Bones prompts and Jim groans, leaning back and patting his full belly, "Nope. Pretty sure I've missed the past two classes. Professor Gill is gonna be pissed."

"Rightfully so butthead. You skipped class."

Jim only makes a louder whine, setting the glass down and rubbing his temple.

"What are we even going over anyways?"

"Oh just the transition of going from a militaristic federation to what we have now." Bones explains and Jim glances his way, "And what do we have now?"

"Peace loving hippies who'd rather sit on their fat asses and not doing anything."

Jim quirks a smile, "I feel like we should drink to that."

"In your dreams kid. You're not having a drink until you're back to a hundred percent."

"Screw you."

"Infant."

Bones sighs, shifting on the couch, "Should we swing by your dorm to get your books you'll need for tomorrow?"

"Ugh, do I hafta?"

"Jim."

He nods, giving in, "Yeah, probably. Got history and warp tomorrow."

"Okay, we should do that now then." Bones decides, getting up from the couch, leaving Jim to sink further into the cushions, "Now?" He emphasizes, pursing his lips and Bones gives him an eyebrow, "You're such a pain in the ass when you're tired."

"Mmhmm." Jim agrees with a sleepy grin, eyes barely open.

But the next moment his own boots are being thrown directly at his face, snapping him into action. Next comes his shirt and pants, all chucked at his head.

"Jeez, hold back why don't ya?"

"You've been sleeping in my clothes. So change, now."

Jim gives him a glare, getting up slowly, his knees wobble slightly and he has to grip the armrest to steady himself, but after a moment the stars from his vision clear.

"As you wish." He says, dropping his pants right there and Bones shields his eyes, "I'm wearing underwear Bones."

"Oh it's not that I'm avoiding. Your white legs are blinding my eyes."

"Oh shut up!" He laughs, throwing the discarded sweats at Bones before stripping himself of his shirt, the buttons were misaligned anyways.

"Just hurry up and get dressed or I'm leaving you behind." Bones shouts over his shoulder, already heading for the door, causing Jim to rush himself.

He's out the door with his boots in one hand and his pants not quite over his ass.

The southerner smiles, shaking his head at Jim as he closes the door.

"Asshole." Jim mutters, yanking his pants up and slipping his boots on, all the while stumbling after Bones as he makes for the stairs, no need for an elevator.

If the 'f' word was muttered a few times, it went unheard by Bones, for the southerner laughed all the damn way down the stairs, with Jim tripping because he couldn't get his goddamn boots over his huge ass feet.

"C'mon Jim." Bones calls, hand reaching out and Jim immediately questions its purpose, "I'm not holding your damn hand Bones."

The hand quickly retracts, "Just making sure you weren't gonna fall on your face. Wasn't gonna hold your hand princess."

Jim swallows and nods, not trusting his voice, because deep down, he wouldn't have minded if Bones held his hand. Rumors be damned, human contact is needed sometimes.

He follows the southerner in silence, taking the usual route from Bones' dorm to his own. The path has been used so much that the grass has been flattened down. Their pace is slow and steady, passing through the crowds of students with ease. Jim receives a few stares, mostly out of curiosity.

When they reach the dorm, Bones gives the door a few good knocks, and surprisingly enough, Francis actually answers in a timely fashion, dressed in that damned red uniform, hat on.

"Hey McCoy, Jim." Francis gives them a courteous nod, "Hey Francis, Jim and I are just picking up some books for his classes tomorrow." Bones explains.

"Okay, yeah, sure," Francis steps aside, "When are you moving back in Jim?"

"Uhh…" Jim glances at his doctor.

Bones smirks at the confusion on his face, "Soon. Just whenever I see him as capable of caring for himself."

Francis smiles, "So never then?"

"Shaddup." Jim grumbles and both of them laugh, and Jim can't help but pout and roll his eyes, "Can we just grab the stupid books?"

Bones nods and Jim peels away, heading into room to collect his things, stuffing some extra clothing into his gym bag along with his textbooks and ID card.

When he comes back out Bones is waiting by the door and Francis has retreated away towards the television. He can't help but notice the trash scattered through the dorm. So Francis is still messy as hell.

That's going to change real soon here.

"Ready?" Bones gestures for the door and Jim skips happily along, "Yes sir."

"Just get your ass out the door." The grumpy southerner growls, making for a quick exit through the door, "When can I stay in my own room?"

There's a sigh as they head downstairs, "Jim, I wanted to ask you…"

"Ask me what?" He pipes, holding the books in the crook of his arm, glancing up around his shoulder to see Bones' face turn a shade of red, "I wanted to know if you wanted to be my roommate-I mean, if it isn't too weird between us."

Jim frowns, laughing lightly, "Of course not Bones, yeah sure we have our hiccups, but its okay."

Bones nods, sobering up, "Good, because otherwise they're gonna assign me a new roommate second semester-can't have that happening."

"Oh I see how it is."

"Yeah don't let your head go up your ass. I ain't asking because you're pretty, I'm asking because I don't want to get stuck with the other guy."

Jim hums, smiling, "Sure Bones, whatever you say man."

"Anyways, enjoy it while you can."

"Enjoy what?"

"The Barrett dorms. Sophomore year they kick all the freshmen to the old Shatner dorms. All single rooms with two beds. Crammed spaces and public bathrooms."

"Wait, why do they do that?"

Bones shrugs, exiting the building, "Dunno, I guess it's to get the freshmen to stay. Pamper them and suck them into the next year-also I heard that the Roddenberry dorms was recently built."

Jim nods, "What about Barrett?"

"It's for the high ranks."

"Oh, then how come you won't stay in there next year?"

"Because you'll be my roommate."

A warm feeling hits his chest, and it's not from stepping outside, because actually it's cold outside.

Smirking, Jim follows Bones back to the Barrett dorms, taking note of the stares going his way, like a ghost just walked before them, and maybe one just did.

 **Author's Note: No, I'm not dead haha. Sorry guys for making you wait for like a month. I don't even know where the time went. Anyways, here's your late chapter in the Jim &Bones duo I got going here. This is bringing the series back into more of a daily life in classes because I'm lowkey toning down the drama (unless it's a necessity for you guys). Also more characters are going to be jumping back in to stir up more trouble for our boys. So sorry again, I appreciate all of you following, and until next time. Live Long and Prosper.**


	28. Chapter 28

**"Forget the hurt of the past, for it will only hinder you in your path for the future, but never forget what it taught you, because those are life's lessons."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 28**

Warmth, it enters from his arm, traveling across his chest and causing a smile to curl on his lips. Then it leaves, and the sounds of someone talking reaches his ears. But heat collides into his shoulder again, this time harder and stays longer than the last, and distracts him once more. And again, the pressure leaves, but merely seconds later it bumps back into his shoulder and this time for good.

The weight becomes heavier and the warmth surges through his body. Then the smell travels over. He catches whiffs of his own shampoo and deodorant in his nostrils, complete with the smell of Academy laundry detergent.

A moan makes its way out and Leonard sighs, glancing down at the golden hair.

The kid never did too well in class environment anyways.

Though considering last night's battle for sleep, Leonard isn't surprised that the kid fell asleep against his shoulder. Luckily for them both, since Jim wants to sleep and Leonard actually enjoys the contact, they're sitting in the back of Professor Gill's class, tuning out the lecture about the last stand of a militaristic Federation.

It's nothing too boring, actually bordering on the side of interesting, if one does enjoy a good history lesson, but for a relaxed Leonard, and a sleeping Jim, the message only reaches closed ears.

The sound of Professor Gill clearing his throat gets Leonard to snap from his daze.

"There will be a test tomorrow –and yes I know, you're not supposed to have history class on Wednesday, but nonetheless I expect all of you to be here no later than four pm, it covers everything in units one and two. Next week we will begin unit three."

There's grumblings throughout the classroom, but the professor waves them off, "You're dismissed."

Leonard huffs a breath, glancing over at his sleeping companion.

Jim's screwed. He's only heard half of unit two and unit one he struggled.

For how his brain functioned, Leonard assumed that Jim would have no problem with the simple subject of history.

Apparently he isn't as genius as he lets people believe he is.

"Hey, Jim." He shakes the kid gently.

Jim stiffens and brings himself upright, blue eyes blinking to life, slightly confused.

"You slept through class kid."

The blond nods, then faceplants into his arms against the desk, moaning heavily.

"C'mon Jim," Leonard stands, tugging the kid by the bicep, pulling him to his feet, "We can swing into the cafeteria, grab some food, because I know you skipped breakfast this morning."

The kid nods, accepting his fate.

Leonard leads the way over, his heart panging in his chest. Of course he cares about Jim, he always has, but this, whatever has been happening between them has tired him out, physically and mentally. There's so much that Jim is forgiving him for and so much he's forgiving himself for.

Because how could he just forget that Jim tried to throw his life away? Letting Francis beat him up. How could he just forget the argument in the hospital? Letting Jim push him away. How could he just forget that Jim tried to overdose on heroin? Letting him go through all that pain alone.

And let's not even get started on Hermione. That relationship was venomous from the start. Leonard knew she was the devil in disguise as an angel. And maybe Jim knew that too, yet he allowed her to do things to him, because he felt worthless and unwanted.

How did Leonard let all of this happen?

"Bones?"

The kid's voice chirps up beside him, so soft, so innocent as if the past month hasn't even happened.

It makes his heart clench, because he knows he shouldn't be Jim's friend, not after the things he said to him. He knows he apologized, but how can Jim live with that hurt? Shouldn't Jim be furious with him?

"Bones."

It's a demand this time, causing him to stop midstride, casting a weary glance the blond's way.

"You okay?"

The way Jim's voice cracks makes it all the worse.

Leonard bites his tongue, nodding his head, "Yeah, just thinking."

The look on Jim's face twists and Leonard can tell the kid doesn't quite believe his answer.

They continue the rest of the way in silence, Jim simply a presence at his shoulder, golden hair sticking up in the corner of his eye. They're oddly close, and if their shoulders brush, neither one mentions it.

The cafeteria is luckily only trickling with a few students, many still attending classes or out and about.

Slowly, Leonard pulls out his ID card and selects his meal, watching the machine spit out his salad. Glancing over, he sees Jim snatch a green apple.

So much for appetite.

"You gonna eat more?" He prompts, knowing it's futile.

Jim shrugs carelessly, playfully tossing and catching the apple with practiced ease.

A sigh escapes his lips and they both head for their normal table, only tension stirs within them both. The silence only drags on as they eat, Jim munching on his apple and Leonard forking his salad.

"Bullshit."

Leonard looks up from his salad, frowning, "Excuse me?"

"Bullshit Bones."

The confusion doesn't leave his face.

"Bones, how could you possibly be okay with being my friend again? Seriously Bones-it's just-it's bullshit!" Jim almost shouts, standing up, and Leonard can see the anxiety gleaming in the younger man's eyes.

"Okay, slow down Jim."

Leonard raises his hands up in surrender, "Just sit down kid."

Jim pauses, forgetting that he had stood. And slowly he sits back down, eyes never leaving Leonard's face.

"Look kid, we both screwed up, and honestly, since we're both such screw-ups, I think we're meant for each other."

The blond seemingly relaxes, lips twitching into a smirk.

"Sorry Bones, I don't know what got into me."

Leonard shrugs, gaze falling back onto his food, "Ah, well its okay. We all got issues."

Jim snorts and takes another bite.

They both know it's true. They're both so messed up, it's a perfect match.

"Taking things to a more logical topic," Leonard clears his throat and pretends not to see Jim's obvious blush, "The history test tomorrow."

If Jim says the f word, Leonard doesn't mind, simply wincing, "Yeah, that's tomorrow kid."

The blond slams his head repeatedly into the table, "Should've killed myself when I had the chance."

Leonard gapes, because hell with that, Jim did try to kill himself, and he can't simply go around joking about it, not after all of that. But Jim seems to notice his mistake, by sighing and looking over at Leonard.

"Sorry Bones, ya'know I didn't mean it like that."

"How can we be so sure?" Leonard replies shortly.

Jim shrugs, "Because we're both screw-ups, but two wrongs make a right?"

Leonard squints at him skeptically, "I swear to god Jim if you ever try to kill yourself, I'll personally shove you off the Golden Gate Bridge."

Jim smiles, "Aw, glad to see you care so much."

"Well I mean c'mon! You nearly gave me a heart attack Jim!"

The kid flinches, gazing down at the half eaten apple in his hand, "Yeah I'm sorry about that Bones…but I need to tell you something."

Leonard drops the fork into the plate, folding his arms, "Well, spit it out."

"When I…ya'know, when I tried to do it, I only went to you because-because I care about you and I didn't want you to feel guilty."

Something within Leonard's chest melts, as if that last bit of anger at Jim just washed away.

Reaching out, Leonard places a hand over Jim's trembling one, grasping the apple tightly, "I'm glad you came Jim."

If Jim smiled a bit brighter that day, Leonard didn't mind either.

"Thanks Bones."

Even though it shouldn't have solved their problems, it shouldn't have made everything okay. But it did, they didn't need much, they're not exactly high maintenance friends. That little conversation seemed to make both of their hearts lighter. Everything seemed to go back to normal.

Before Leonard knew it, Jim was scurrying away to his warp class and Leonard was left studying for the history test tomorrow. He hated when professors did that. Since they only had classes once a week, professors tended to assign projects and tests on different days. Though next year, everything always gets harder. Not only do students get crammed into the older dorms with single rooms, they also start taking classes 'full time'. Meaning less time spent studying and goofing around. It was a way of suckering the freshmen in and preparing them for the harder years up ahead.

So much for trying to get away from stress.

Leonard sighs, mindlessly flipping the next page, eyes skimming through the countless words, all blurring into one.

History has always been quite easy for him, it comes naturally, everything just flows like one huge story. So studying isn't actually on the foremost of his mind. But nonetheless he studies, because he knows Jim is going to ask if he studied, and if he doesn't, Jim won't either.

But Jim needs the studying. Despite popular belief, Jim Kirk isn't 'that' genius. Of course the kid is smart, smarter than average, but his straight A's don't come from sitting on his ass winging every test; it comes from his hard studying and his "I don't believe in no-win scenarios".

Secretly, Leonard admired this about the young blond. Jim never ceased to stop trying. But at the same time, the kid feels self conscious, he knows Leonard doesn't actually need to study, and most things are fairly easy for him, but for the blond's sake, Leonard always studies, showing Jim that he should too.

And speak of the devil; the kid comes barging in around four o'clock.

"Hey Bones."

Leonard glances up from the history textbook, blinking a few times. The kid looks breathless, maybe a tad bit scared.

"Something wrong?"

Make it up to Jim and every answer he'll get is a shrug.

Leonard scowls and rolls his eyes at the careless shrug, because how could Jim not know.

"Jim." He demands and Jim relents with a sigh, finding the other kitchen chair, "I got a bit antsy during class." The blond murmurs.

He raises an eyebrow, curiously staring at Jim, "Why?"

Jim noticeably chews his lower lip, "Hermione was there."

Leonard leans back in his chair. He had forgotten that they had that class together.

"Did she say anything to you?"

The kid shakes his head, "No, but it isn't that Bones…"

What else could it be?

"Then what?"

Jim looks him in the eye, his mouth open to finally give an answer, but it dies on his lips, his mouth falling shut. Leonard implores him with his eyes, but the kid drops the gaze, heaving a breath, contemplating his next words.

"I…I don't know. It's just something about her."

Could the kid be anymore vague?

"What do you mean?" He pushes, but Jim starts to clam up, shaking his head, "I don't know Bones."

Of course the blond knows, but from better experience, Leonard decides not to push, because Jim will come to him in his own terms or not at all. But there's still that glint of fear in his blue eyes that worries Leonard.

Yes, Leonard knows their breakup was messy, and their reasons for breaking up is even messier, but to have Jim anxious just to be in the same room as her? Must be something psychological. Maybe Jim is coming to terms with the fact she did take advantage of him, maybe just enough so to call it 'rape'. Dubious as the consent was, it is border lining rape, from what Jim has said about his experience with her.

Overall, Leonard doesn't press, simply hums, eyes skimming the next page.

"Are you studying?" Jim inquires even though the answer is obvious.

"Mmhmm." Leonard replies, not glancing up.

He can almost hear Jim's smile.

"Alright, I'm gonna grab my book."

Leonard only cringes as he hears the scraping of the chair against the floor and the light thuds of Jim's boots hitting the ground as he runs, because apparently he can't walk, to find his textbook. And just as soon as he left, he's back, clambering into the chair with a clank, book hitting the surface of the table with a loud bang.

He almost makes a sarcastic remark about the kid's loudness, but by the time he glances up, Jim's head is buried in the history book, his face deadly serious as he studies each word. There's a slight move to the blond's lips as he reads it to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to understand. And now, Leonard can't bring it to himself to break the kid's concentration.

Jim's trying so hard. The kid deserves a good grade on this test.

"Wait Bones…can you explain this…?" Jim spins the book around, pointing to a paragraph about the Federation's start, of the newly founded board system set up to make decisions. It was the beginning of the Academy Board, though this passage is talking about all the bills that got passed to create it.

Leonard tries not to sigh, that'll only make the kid more conscious about his lack of understanding. Instead, he smiles, "Sure, lemme see real quick."

This continues for almost two hours, Leonard skimming through his book with the occasional Jim butting in, asking Leonard to explain or to confirm his own thoughts on the passage. At first the kid does it with hesitation, embarrassed about asking such questions, but Leonard made sure he looked approachable, and was patient with the kid the entire time.

It's around dinner time when Sulu and Chekov invite themselves into the room.

"Jim!" The pair shouts in unison upon Leonard opening the door for them.

The blond grins at the attention as he's wrapped into a hug.

"How are you man?" Sulu asks, nudging Jim's shoulder, "Better, I'm doin' better." Jim replies, a side glance going Leonard's way, it's a look of understanding, of gratitude.

"I am glad to hear that!" Chekov squeaks, a smile on his face, practically jumping on his feet. The Russian boy is full of so much life.

The rest of the night is spent with them catching up. Talking about classes, professors, assignments, cafeteria fights, and a little gossip here and there.

But by ten Leonard is falling asleep on the couch, eyes barely open. There are voices around the couch, talking quietly.

"Yeah, he's pretty wiped out." Jim's voice is hushed and gentle; "Yeah I bet," Sulu whispers back, the sounds penetrating Leonard's ears.

"Well, thanks for coming over guys. I really missed both of you." The blond continues.

Chekov then pipes up, "We missed you guys too!"

Jim chuckles softly, "Thanks Pav, whelp, I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

The door slides open and a two pairs of footsteps echo away.

"Yeah, probably."

"Okay, bye guys."

The door closes, there's a sigh and Leonard hears the padding of Jim's feet against the floor, soft and light.

It's quiet for a few minutes, the sound of Jim flipping pages of his textbook lulling Leonard into sleep. Then blackness comes, until something warm touches him, bringing him barely away from the brink of sleep.

"C'mon Bones, can't sleep there."

He feels Jim manhandle him up, and it's then he opens his eyes. Jim's got his arm about his shoulders, supporting his weight.

"Hey, it's midnight, let's get you in bed okay?"

Leonard nods sleepily, accepting the kid's help.

Slowly they trudge to his bedroom, and it's there he crashes. The last thing he remembers is Jim's quiet "goodnight" before sneaking away.

Morning comes rather quickly, and he wakes to the sound of Jim opening his door.

"Bones! Wake up; ya got forty minutes until class."

He moans, rolling over in his bed, "Screw off Jim…"

Leonard almost falls back asleep, but suddenly the sheets are ripped from his body and the cold seeps into his skin, "Shit Jim, c'mon."

He gets up slowly, finding a sweaty red-faced Jim grinning at him with an armful of blankets.

"What happened to you?"

"Had hand-to-hand this morning. Now c'mon Bones."

Nodding he slides off of the bed, going for his clothes. Jim runs out of the room when he changes, and when he gets out, Jim's sitting on the couch, looking expectantly over at him.

"Ready for Interspecies Ethics?"

"Shit." Leonard moans, rubbing his face tiredly and heading for the kitchen, ordering a quick breakfast, "Did you eat?"

There's a long "uhh" from Jim, which translates into "no".

"Well come get something then." Leonard says and hears Jim spring from the couch, trotting over to him, "Okay, hook me up."

They take their sweet time during breakfast before heading out to Professor Kelley's Interspecies Ethics course. To be honest, Leonard isn't quite sure what they're even doing anymore. The class itself seems quite overdone. Seriously, do they need a whole semester about how to treat aliens? Then there's protocol, which is basically the same thing. It's all redundant.

Upon arriving, the pair grabs their usual table, Jim sinking comfortably down; keeping his eyes squinted at the professor. Jim and Professor Kelley had a rocky start in the beginning of the semester, but after a few weeks Jim seemed to cool down, and their student-teacher relationship came to an ease.

"Come on, hurry up class, get settled. We don't have much time today. We have 'lots' of notes today." Kelley announces and an odd expression appears on Jim's face.

"Huh?" Leonard prompts, nudging the kid with his elbow.

Jim purses his lips, now clearly disappointed, "I forgot my PADD at my dorm."

Leonard smirks, "It's okay, I'll take notes and I'll send them to you."

The blond shakes his head, "But I learn better if I take notes during class."

Oh, that makes sense. The kid is very visual in everything he does. Leonard on the other hand picks things up by ear, repetition not needed in his case, but for the kid, the more it gets drilled into his head the better.

"Okay, take notes then." Leonard whispers over to him, sliding him the PADD.

Jim grins, "Thanks."

"Last class we spoke about procedures when landing shuttles on foreign planets, today we're going to discuss direct contact with different species." Kelley informs them.

Leonard glances over, seeing Jim label his notes "Contact" with a doodling of a stick figure shaking a gooey blob's hand. Frowning he bumps the kid's shoulder, "What the hell?"

"That's me meeting an alien." Jim explains, tone hushed as he adds spikes to the top of the stick figure's head.

Jim continued his doodling and side notes as Professor Kelley continued his lesson. Leonard found the latter not as entertaining, instead he found himself peering over Jim's arm to see just what he was drawing. The drawings were nothing amazing, it looked like pictures that Joanna could've drawn.

By the end of the lesson, Jim had filled six pages of notes, with lists, rules, procedures, and a section labeled "When Things go to Shit", with bullet points on what measures are to be taken if the aliens get pissed off.

With the dismissal of class, the pair has a little less than an hour and a half before their Prime Directive class with Professor Jones. The man was interesting and seemed to sidetrack every now again, and unlike most teachers, Jones seemed more aware of student struggles and he occasionally cancelled class since he says "The Prime Directive is one stupid rule and it doesn't take a whole semester to figure it out".

With that being said, he was a class favorite.

"Now what?" Leonard asks as they head up the stairs, brushing by a few students who climb them slower, "I dunno, probably should grab my PADD."

Leonard nods, "Wanna meet at the hill?" He suggests, finding his way through the swarm of people in the hallway.

"Yeah, sure. See ya there in a bit." Jim calls out and disappears into the crowd.

Leonard is able to follow Jim's movement for a few seconds, but the kid is practically shoving people over to get out. The blond never did like tight spaces.

Sighing, Leonard grumbles his way through, head down and keeping to his own.

By the time he makes it outside, he's certain Jim's already at his dorm getting his forgotten PADD. But nonetheless, he heads for their meeting spot, the grassy hill. The sun is close to hitting its peak, bright and shining down on the Starfleet campus.

He only has to wait a few minutes before Jim arrives, PADD in hand and his Prime Directive textbook snug in the crook of his arm. His smile is carefree and weightless. Somehow the stress of the past two weeks hasn't pounded him into the dirt. There's still the slight tremble in his hands, that crave doesn't quite leave Jim's veins, and there's still that sunken look in his eyes, revealing how tired he is. The signs are still there, but his attitude doesn't reflect it.

"Naptime?" Jim prompts once settled beside him.

Leonard gazes up from the grass he had been plucking at restlessly, "Yes, definitely naptime." He agrees, kicking back and laying his head in his hands.

Jim proceeds to do the same, gazing up at the sky.

"I can't wait until I get up there." The kid mutters and Leonard frowns at him, "We don't even know what's out there." He points out.

"That's why I want to go."

"That's why I don't want to go."

They look at each other, before grimacing at the other.

Then Jim shakes his head at Leonard, "Then why did you join Bones?"

He pauses, knowing the real reason, but it's so easy just to blame it all on his ex-wife. But that'd just be a scapegoat, and if he wants Jim to be more open about himself, well Leonard has to take the first step.

"Is it your ex-wife?"

It's like the kid read his thoughts.

"No, not entirely." Leonard begins and Jim remains silent, waiting for him to continue.

Leonard clears his throat, sighing, "I joined because of this girl, named Jenny."

"Ahh, I see. Was she hot?"

He scowls, smacking Jim, "No, no. It wasn't like that-moron. No, Jenny, she was a little girl, about nine."

"Oh…what happened?"

Leonard stares up at the sky, "She wanted to be a starship captain…"

There's a moment of silence, as Leonard pictures that little girl, full of joy and ambition, while Jim nonetheless has a moment thinking about his father. Anything with to do with starships seemed to trigger those thoughts in his head.

"Jenny, she was in the Georgia hospital I interned at. She was such a great patient and she lit up the whole room with just a smile. Everybody loved her; the nurses always came in to say good morning and goodnight. It was a blessing to know her; she was just one of a kind."

He takes a breath, "But, she was doomed from the start. She had a hereditary disease-incurable even with today's medicine…but all she talked about was her plans, her dreams of joining Starfleet, of becoming captain-even though she was terminal. And I just thought…I thought maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing, helping other people out there in the black."

He hears Jim's breath as he thinks.

"Not as bad as joining on a dare."

Leonard laughs, "Yeah, suppose you're right."

They fall silent after that, and it's just when Leonard thinks he's on the verge of falling asleep that a shadow casts over him followed by a grunt. He opens his eyes, bolting upright. It's Finnegan, stooping over Jim, his foot on the kid's stomach.

"Screw off Finnegan." Jim growls, shoving the bully's foot off.

Finnegan smirks, "Just checking on the two love birds."

Leonard rolls his eyes, but Jim glares the man down, eyes shooting draggers, "I said screw off."

Jake Finnegan raises his hands in surrender, "Jeez Jimmy boy, I thought after everything that happened that we'd be friends."

"Never." Jim declares.

"But I've been so nice to you." Finnegan whines and smirks at the anger appearing on the blond's face, "Finnegan you choked me out the day we met! You forced me to drink klingon alcohol and your friend Arendse tried to kill me at a bar! I don't think we're friends. We're far from it."

Finnegan sighs dramatically, "Okay okay, fine you win. We're acquaintances then."

"Just go away Finnegan."

The bully crosses his arms, "Ya know-you've been such a pain in my ass ever since I fu-"

Jim stands, shoving the man away, "I said go away!"

"Whoa-whoa Jim, hold up." Leonard hops to his feet, grabbing Jim's arm to pull him away, "C'mon Jim, he's a lost cause."

"Really Jimmy? You're gonna make a scene. Why can't you stop your bitching?"

Jim's so flustered he shakes with rage, "Finnegan, I swear to god if you don't leave right now I'm gonna beat your ass into next semester."

Finnegan smirks, seeming to have gotten what he came for, "Alright, I'll see you around Jimmy."

There are a few moments of Jim furiously staring after the man before Leonard can get him to sit back down. The kid won't look his way though, and his mind seems to be somewhere else. So much for a nap. Can't Leonard just get some peace and quiet for once? Though, he did decide to be friends with Jim Kirk, so he really didn't sign up for a normal friendship. If these past months don't prove that, then he doesn't know what will.

"You okay?"

Jim snorts a laugh, shaking his head almost miserably, "I asked you that yesterday morning and you lied."

Leonard sighs, scooting closer so his shoulder grazes Jim's, "Yeah well I don't want to wait the extra twenty minutes before you tell me the truth, so why don't ya just skip that part and tell me now what's up."

A smile that had easily been there minutes ago now struggles to remain on the kid's face for more than a few seconds.

"I did something while you were gone."

'Gone' as in the period of time when he and Jim weren't friends.

"With Finnegan?"

Jim nods, chewing his lower lip, "Yeah, and I…I don't really wanna talk about it."

Leonard tries to understand, but come on, he opened up to Jim about Jenny, so why can't he open up about this? So instead of backing off, Leonard tries to nudge him in the right direction, sometimes people just need a little push to get going.

"Sometimes it's better to talk about it then bottle it all up ya'know."

Jim doesn't respond, still avoiding his gaze.

"It's just me Jim, you trust me right?"

Jim nods, "With my life."

"Then trust me with this." He implores and Jim meets his eyes, "Promise you won't ever talk about this again?"

"Of course, I promise, I'm all ears kid."

The blond takes a collective breath and Leonard gives him a quick reassuring rub on the back.

"It was a Saturday night and I…I ran out of drugs and the craving-well, you know, it became painful. I needed more, I kept telling myself that. And the night before Finnegan told me to come to his place because he was having a party-it was a way of offering me more heroin. So being the idiot I was, that Saturday night I went to his room-and I should have known what was to come, it wasn't the first time I've heard of Finnegan doing this sort of thing before but…"

Jim trails off for a moment and Leonard sees the stress lines on his forehead as he recalls the events.

"I just, I don't know Bones, I don't know why I did it."

The kid seems to finish there, but Leonard isn't going to let him get by with half a story.

"What did he do Jim?"

Jim looks him in the eye, mouth hanging agape, "He bought me heroin…"

"In return for what?"

"I…I had a few drinks too many and I, he had…" Jim's voice fades and he coughs and sniffs, but not from the cold, "I sucked him off." Jim informs him rather robotically.

Leonard cringes, knowing something bad was to come, but to actually hear Jim say it makes it that much worse. That explains the odd tension between the two, the way Jim went on the defensive every time Finnegan came near.

"Jim, I-"

"It's okay Bones; it's not your fault. It was my decision."

Jim sniffs again and Leonard grips his shoulder, maybe to just bring him a tad bit closer, to feel the blond's warmth seep into his body.

"So much for a nap." Jim chuckles nervously, gazing out across the campus to clear the haunting thoughts in his mind.

Leonard gives him the needed space, just sitting there beside him, keeping him anchored.

"Well do you wanna go back to my dorm? Pop a beer before Professor Jones gives one of his damn lectures about how damn pointless the Prime Directive is?"

Because everyone knows it's bound to happen with the man.

Jim grins, "Yeah, that sounds good."

 **Author's Note: Why hello peoples! What is this? I'm actually updating in a timely fashion! Wowza, I'm so proud, if I do say so myself. Anyways, here's another Jim &Bones chapter, because honestly I can write them all day long, they're my favs. At this point in the story, I'm hoping to write about finals for their classes pretty soon here. Maybe throw in a few more Easter eggs because I'm awful like that, and then throw more drama into the mix because where would this story be without it? Honestly, I've been tying up all the loose ends I can, of course there's still the matter of Jim missing his therapy sessions, which will be solved on Saturday for them, but one I want to spend time finishing up is Jim's obsession for Hermione (so we can ultimately be rid of her). For those of you who love "Bones Whump" because we all do guys, I do have some ideas I'm throwing around but nothing's certain yet, but there will be some because you guys deserve it. Anyways, I'm rambling, sorry for this long A/N, so bye guys. Live Long and Prosper.**


	29. Chapter 29

**"Life is 10% what happens to us and 90% how we react to it."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 29**

Jim taps the bottle, tilting and turning it around on the floor. The ground is cool beneath his body and the lights overhead cast dimly down on him. There's the soft thudding of Bones' feet as he strolls into the kitchen for the millionth time in the past ten minutes.

In five minutes they have their Prime Directive class, Jim has drunken himself tipsy, and Bones, well the southerner has been rummaging through the entire dorm room this whole hour. Of what he searches for, Jim hasn't bothered to ask, too caught up in downing his next beer to care.

"Ah-ha! I found it." Bones declares triumphantly, and Jim perks up from the floor, "Huh?"

"My textbook, haven't used it since the first week of school." Bones explains, trudging out of his room, the textbook now in his loose hanging arms.

"Ahh." Jim manages, glancing back down.

He'd been using that textbook all semester.

Bones puts a foot into his side, "C'mon, we got class in ten minutes."

Scowling he stands, "Actually in three minutes." Jim corrects and Bones' face falls, "Shit, why didn't you tell me?"

"I dunno, assumed you knew."

"Ugh, well c'mon; Professor Jones has a weird policy on tardiness."

They sprint to class, textbooks and PADDs in their arms. When they arrive, students are already getting settled, but the platform is oddly absent. Nonetheless, Jim and Bones pick their way through, finding their normal seats left vacant just for them.

"Where's the professor?" Jim asks and Bones gazes about the room, "I dunno Jim."

There are a couple minutes of students just talking amongst themselves, waiting for their teacher to show up. The more they wait, the more bored Jim becomes. Slowly by the minute he sinks in his chair, sighing more often.

"Stop slouching." Bones grumbles.

"He's not coming." Jim complains.

"Sorry class, I know-I know, I'm late." Professor Jones makes his appearance, scampering down the steps and clambering onto the platform with practiced grace, "There was a little commotion out there, but it's all settled now, so don't worry about it." He explains, taking off his uniform jacket and taking out his PADD.

"To be honest guys, I didn't go over the material this morning…" Professor Jones trails off, eyes squinting down at the PADD while the whole class holds their breath, they just might have class cancelled, wouldn't be the first time.

"Aww, here we go."

The class groans.

"Oh hold on now, it's not that much, just stuff for your upcoming final…"

More groans.

"It's not that bad." Jones shakes his head, "Today is November…fourteenth…and your finals are-hmm, the first week of December. Okay, see not that bad."

Professor Jones glances up from his PADD, "Oh c'mon guys, we haven't done anything in this class so shut up…thank you."

"That's true, pretty sure we've had like one test all semester." Bones whispers into his ear and he nods knowingly. Most of the time Jones gave them short readings and when they came back they'd take a mini quiz, or a free response essay, which was more of a one paragraph paper.

"Alright, listen up; I'm only gonna say this once." Professor Jones announces, yet everyone knows he'll be in his room all afternoon waiting for any students that have questions, because he was just 'that' teacher.

"First of all, your final project will be a research project-and no, I don't care how you present it-and yes, it will be a presentation. You can do a speech, perform a play, make a holo video, do one of those slide shows-I don't care, it can be anything, it just has to meet the requirements." Jones waves his hand carelessly, scrolling down on his PADD to find the project guidelines.

"Okay, you must pick a 'real' event in which the Prime Directive was used appropriately and affectively, while also use an event in which the Prime Directive was violated. In both cases you must explain-or illustrate-what happened in each case and inform the class of its lasting effects. Like did the Prime Directive keep everyone safe? Did it prevent any complications? Or maybe was violating it the right thing to do? Questions like those."

Professor Jones clears his throat, "Then on the last day we'll have a debate, on the Prime Directive, where we'll discuss if it's necessary, or ever necessary, to violate the golden rule. Or discuss what changes we should make to it, like any exceptions."

"Ugh, this sounds like a lot of work." Jim mutters and sees Bones shake his head at him.

"So, these projects are due the twenty-eighth, that's in two weeks guys. So please, don't waste your time, just get this done. I'm giving you this full class period and next's to complete it, you may have to put in outside class time to finish it up." The professor continues, despite the grumbling of the students, "You have your PADDs, there are the computer labs, and there's a library. If you have any questions feel free to ask me-and also the requirements are on my website."

There's a pause as Professor Jones scans the class, "Okay, so class dismissed, I'll see all of you on the twenty-eighth, be prepared, and please just get this done."

"Are we gonna stay here?" Bones says and Jim shrugs, "Probably not, we can go to your dorm to work on this."

Bones grins, "Alright, sounds good to me."

"Okay, I'll gonna head to the library to grab a few books; I'll see you at your place." He gets up, "Sure, I'm gonna clean up the mess you left at my dorm then." Bones grumbles, following him out.

"See ya in ten."

"Alright."

"Wait, take this." Jim dumps his belongings into Bones' arms, "Seriously?" Bones whines and Jim smirks, "Yeah, c'mon I'm going to the library to get more books."

Bones fixes him with a glare, "Whatever, just hurry up."

Jim and Bones part ways, Bones heading right and Jim left, off towards the library. He's not quite sure what books to grab, be nonetheless he'll find some. Professor Jones did say they could use the library.

Ugh, all these finals are going to hit him at the same time aren't they?

Most professors though will give small finals, since it is only the first semester. Their bigger projects come next semester, where the real effort comes in, where they earn their grade.

He skips along to the library.

But he pauses, something catching his eye. Jim whips around, and then he sees it. It's Uhura and Gaila, walking side by side. Hot damn, the things he'd do to get laid with those two.

Jim bites his lip sharply to stop any incoming fantasies. He doesn't have time for that.

Turning, he goes into the library, eyes immediately scanning through the countless books. Thank god for the old fashioned paper books. He picks through several history books, flipping the pages mindlessly. How is he supposed to find anything on the Prime Directive? There's got to be something. Professor Gill would know.

Jim groans, glaring up and down the aisle. Maybe something will appear.

He stands hands on hips, frowning. This is going to be impossible. Why don't they just have a section for Prime Directive? That'd make his life a hell of a lot easier.

"Looking for something?"

His skin tingles, "Huh?"

Jim glances over his shoulder, and it's the last person he expected to see in the library.

"Ma'am," He gasps, taking a step away, because she's Satan in disguise.

"Cadet Kirk," Professor Rand greets him, her eyes keen and soulless.

Jim takes another step back, "Yeah, that's me."

She's going to kill him isn't she? Professor Rand is going to kill him because he slept with her daughter. He should've known not to sleep with a teacher's kid, always a bad mistake.

"I didn't see you yesterday." Rand continues, now looking towards the countless books.

Jim swallows, "Yeah, I wasn't feeling too good."

"Or the week before that." She adds sharply.

"I was highly contagious."

She raises her eyebrows at him suspiciously, "Really?"

"Really." He confirms.

Jim coughs, clearing his throat, trying to break the awkward silence that has fallen over them.

Professor Rand smiles, "I'd like you to come to my class tonight to catch up on your assignments. If you don't make them up, I'm afraid you won't be passing."

He nods, "Of course, I'll be there. I'll be taking a history test in the afternoon so I'll come in after that."

"That'll work."

"Thanks ma'am."

She shakes her head disgustedly at him and turns away without another word.

Jim sighs, rather relieved. He wasn't sure, but she looked like she was going to rip his head off for a second there.

He clears his mind, gazing back over at the aisles of books. There has to be one about the Prime Directive right?

Jim spends the next hour in there, going through books. But by the end, he has a stack of five in his arms and by god, he couldn't be happier. There's something about reading that excites him. Not particularly in school books, no those were factual and sometimes boring. No he likes the ones that sweep one's mind away and takes them somewhere else, somewhere new and exotic. It's those things about stories that he likes.

He gets to Bones' dorm in a timely fashion; he only dropped the books once.

Bones' door is unlocked as usual, but oddly enough, it's empty.

"Bones?" He calls out unsurely, peeking around the corners and poking his head into the rooms, but with no luck.

Pursing his lips, he abandons the books on the kitchen table and scurries out of the dorm room. Where would Bones go? Perhaps he got tired of waiting and ran off to go back to Professor Jones' room. Jim did take over an hour to grab a couple books.

Damn, he's such a shitty friend. He was supposed to be back in ten minutes. Bones probably got tired of waiting for him.

Jim forgets the books and heads off to Jones' classroom, though it's missing a certain person.

"Cadet Kirk, can I help you?" Professor Jones peers over from where he discusses with a few Orion girls.

Jim shuffles his feet, "Uhh, yeah. Did Bones-did Cadet McCoy come by?" He grimaces at his choice of words.

Jones hums, "No, I haven't seen him since class, sorry cadet."

Jim waves him off, "Ah, it's okay. Thanks Professor Jones."

"Yeah sure, if you need any help Kirk just come here, I'll be happy to help."

Of course he would.

He smiles, "Thank you."

Jones gives him a nod before turning back to the students at hand.

So where did Bones go? Surely he couldn't have gone far. Maybe he went out. But where would he go? Bones isn't known for having many friends, and he's so antisocial he rarely leaves the safety of his dorm room.

Jim heads back outside, eyes downcast.

Just where did Bones go?

Maybe the southerner finally realized that he was a lost cause and has left him. Because honestly, who would want to be friends with James Tiberius Kirk? Not Bones, not anyone.

No, he's thinking too irrationally. Bones has showed him many times before how much he cares about him; he wouldn't leave just like that. There must be a reason.

Gaining more confidence, Jim runs off to his own dorm, but he only reaches a locked door.

"Francis! Open up! I left my ID card at Bones' place."

Still no answer.

"Damn it Francis, open the damn door."

Only silence.

"God kill me now."

Jim turns away, rubbing his face wearily. He's in California, now just where would a southerner go in California? Did Bones leave campus?

His heart beats faster.

He has to find Bones, he might just have a heart attack without him. Or more realistically, he might have a panic attack without him.

The blond runs a hand through his hair.

Sulu and Chekov, maybe they know.

He leaps up the stairs to the third floor, finding the lights out, the room obviously vacant. They must be out. Who else might know of the southerner's whereabouts? Finnegan. Maybe Finnegan decided to take out a little revenge on Bones.

Oh hell no, that bastard is going down.

Jim hesitates at the elevator. Last time he used it, Finnegan pinned him against a wall. No need for those shitty memories to resurface. Instead he climbs all the stairs to the top, because he's damn stubborn like that.

Like always, Finnegan's lights are on and there's moody music blaring from inside.

"Hey Finnegan, open up!" He knocks on the door, not stopping until the door slides away to reveal Finnegan, smirking at him, "Came to apologize about earlier today?"

"No and screw off. I'm wondering where Bones is?"

Finnegan smiles, "Why? Miss your little boyfriend?"

"Finnegan, c'mon man."

The bully chuckles, "Really Jimmy, you think people wouldn't start seeing that? You're everybody's favorite gay couple."

"We're not even dating. Just friends moron."

Finnegan crosses his arms, leaning against the doorframe, "Whatever you say Jimmy boy."

"Jake, do you know where he is or not?" Jim demands sharply and the man backs off a little, "Alright alright, don't get your panties in a knot-and no, I haven't seen him, happy okay?"

Jim's eyes narrow down at him.

"I swear Jimmy, haven't heard anything."

Rolling his eyes, Jim turns to leave.

"Ya'know Jimmy," Finnegan starts and Jim pauses, sighing, "if you ever need some more, I'm right here."

"I think I'll pass." Jim replies, though the temptation is there. He will admit being high off his ass on heroin wasn't too bad of a way to waste his days away.

Jim leaves the building, feeling utterly defeated. In less than two hours he and Bones have that history test. Surely the southerner would go back to his dorm before then right? With a sigh on his lips, Jim goes back to Barrett dorms, going into Bones' room.

The room is still empty, nothing but the sound of the air conditioner and Jim's exhale filling it.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, grabbing the history textbook he left yesterday.

His eyes skim the words, but they're all blurring together. He feels his body slowly slump down in exhaustion, and maybe some boredom. His eyelids are falling closed and his arms become a pillow for his head on top of his book.

"Jim?"

The voice is gravelly and low and it makes Jim perk up from his half sleep.

"Bones?"

He's out of his chair in a flash, coming right beside his friend.

"Where've you been?"

Bones audibly sniffs, rubbing his nose, "Caught some flu bug. Apparently it's been going around for the past two weeks."

Jim frowns. Bones sick? Is that even a thing?

"Or you okay? Did you get some medicine? Are you hungry? Should I grab some blankets-"

"Jim, Jim," Bones snatches his shoulders, "I'm just sick, I'm fine."

He looks Bones in the eyes. The southerner looks worn out, glassy eyes and runny nose. His friend's skin is warm and sticky, and Bones' face has paled.

"Okay, well here. Lemme be useful." Jim takes Bones over to the bed, stripping back the sheets, "You should get some rest. We have a history test soon."

Bones nods tiredly, "Mmhmm."

He helps Bones kick off his shoes and lets him strip himself of his pants and jacket before climbing into bed.

"There ya go. I'ma grab some water."

Jim runs out of the room, grabbing a glass and quickly filling it before returning beside Bones, "Here, drink this, should help you feel better."

Bones rolls his eyes, "Of course it will. Jim, I'm a doctor."

"Well, now it's my turn." Jim declares, making him sit up briefly to fluff up the pillow before letting him slide back down.

"Okay Doctor Kirk." Bones grumbles, handing him the empty glass.

"Did you get some medication? Or should I go to Medbay?" Jim asks nervously. He hates Medbay and he wouldn't go there in a million years, but if it's for Bones, then he'd go there in a heartbeat.

Bones seems to realize this and scowls at him, "Jim, you hate that place first of all, and secondly no, don't go. While you were gone I went over because I threw up."

Jim nods, "Oh, sounds bad. Sorry Bones, I wasn't here."

The southerner shakes his head, "It's okay Jim, it's not like you could've stopped me from getting the flu."

"So, do you need anything else? Should I get you some more water? Or maybe some food or something?"

Bones laughs, "No, I'm fine Jim, thank you. Can you just wake me up twenty minutes before we leave for the test?"

"You're still going? Bones you look like death!" Jim exclaims incredulously.

"Yeah and you've been worse. Anyways, all I need is a good nap." Bones replies and Jim gives in, "Alright, yeah I'll wake you before we go."

"Thanks."

Jim smirks, "No problem, I'm just going to be studying in the other room, if you need anything just ask."

Bones nods, "Okay, thanks Jim."

"Mmhmm."

Jim scrambles to the table, continuing his reading while still keeping his ears open for Bones.

Despite his efforts to stay at the kitchen table, because by god Bones didn't need to be pampered, Jim found himself slowly edging closer and closer to the southerner's doorway, just to peek inside to see if he was asleep or not.

Jim then finds himself sitting on the ground, back against the wall with his book in his arms. Looking around his left shoulder is Bones' room. The man's asleep, but Jim just wants to make sure he's okay.

Though soon enough, Jim's managed to bring a chair into the room, and now he sits in it, reading and cautiously glancing over at Bones' sleeping form.

Bones is sprawled out in his sleep, taking up most of the bed with just his limbs. The blanket has fallen down to his waist and his mouth is parted and blowing out long breaths. Jim grins, finally the tables have turned. It's usually Jim passed out sick in bed, but now, Bones is the sick one.

Amusing as it may be for him, Jim still feels slightly guilty. Bones is a doctor and knows what to do when Jim gets sick, but when it's the other way around, all Jim knows how to do is bring Bones a cup of water.

He sighs, looking back down at his book. The history test is coming up real quick and he needs to study, though according to some professors 'cramming' doesn't work. But 'cramming' his ass, he'll study as much as he damn well pleases.

Then Bones murmurs in his sleep and Jim lays the book in his lap, looking at the southerner's face curiously. The brunette's face is sweaty and is turning whiter by the minute.

Jim purses his lips, thinking. What would Bones do?

Cold. Jim has to figure out how to lower Bones' temperature. But how? What did Bones do to lower his temperature when he was sick?

Damn it, this shouldn't be that hard.

Bathtub. Bones put him in the bathtub. But then again, at the time Jim was literally puking his guts out. This isn't that extreme. Maybe some icepacks? Yeah, that should work.

Jim gets up, abandoning the textbook in favor of making his friend feel better.

Surprisingly enough, Bones has plenty of icepacks, though Jim guesses the southerner stocked up because he wanted to be prepared for any fight Jim got into.

When he gets back into Bones' room, the man has rolled over onto his side, the blanket wrapped around his body.

Jim pulls back the blankets, placing the icepack against his friend's neck. Bones noticeably shrinks away from the icy touch, but Jim grips and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly and Bones relaxes.

With a smile of success, Jim collapses back into the chair, yawning heavily. But he blinks his eyes furiously; he has a history test in thirty minutes.

Staying awake for those next ten minutes is a true battle, but in the end, Jim won. The entire time he spent gazing at Bones, wondering if he needs to do more for his friend. But, as requested, Jim wakes Bones up twenty minutes before their test, nudging his shoulder gently until the southerner groans, hazel eyes peeling open.

"Twenty minutes." Jim says and Bones nods tiredly, "Ugh."

Jim frowns; Bones looks like he needs to sleep the rest of the day off, maybe the entire week.

"You sure you don't wanna just go in a different day? I'm sure Professor Gill will understand." Jim offers but Bones, being the damn stubborn man he is, shakes his head, "No I'm fine, just can you get me some water?"

He nods his head hurriedly, happy to be able to help, "Yeah, of course-try to sit up, I'll be right back."

He brings back the water quickly.

Jim then finds himself taking Bones to Professor Gill's room. The poor man can barely walk in a straight line, yet is still determined to take the test. He can only shake his head at the southerner. Stubborn mule.

"You going to be okay?" Jim prompts, opening the door to let Bones stumble before him, "Yeah, just tired."

He nods understandingly and walks beside Bones until they get to their usual chairs. Other students are already filing in; some holding textbooks as they last minute cram.

Jim makes a nervous glance at the professor then back to Bones. He can feel the stress weigh down on his chest.

It's just a test, he has to tell himself.

But god knows he's an awful test taker.

 **Author's Note: Sorry guys for this weird ending but gosh dang, I was on a rule, like I was actually productive and I was writing chapters every night until school started and that messed up my whole flow. So I apologize again for taking forever, and for this weird chapter, the ending is crap haha. But anyways, also sorry for not replying to pms and reviews I just been busy as heck I just wanna sleep more than four hours a night guys, ugh. Though besides that, hopefully this chapter isn't that bad and that I haven't taken too long to post, so just thanks guys for hanging in there and for all the reviews, they mean a lot to me, and hopefully this time I'll actually reply. Live Long and Prosper.**


	30. Chapter 30

**"Be aware that most secrets come with a price tag that you may not be aware of, however, at some point you will have to pay…weigh your choice carefully."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 30**

Despite being sick, and feeling his mind slowly ebb away, Leonard feels like he's doing pretty decent on the test. There's been a few questions (out of the hundred and fifty), that he feels uncertain on, but other than that it's been going smooth. But Jim on the other hand seems to be a nervous wreck. The kid keeps fidgeting in his seat, chewing his lip, and tapping the stylus against the edge of the screen. Their testing is on the school provided tablets, kept in the classroom just for this purpose. Leonard wishes that they could've done it on old fashioned paper, though he supposes Jim would only be clicking a pen instead, and that noise would've been just as annoying as this one.

Near the end of the test, the kid seems to have gone pale. Leonard almost wants to drag the kid to the clinic afterwards just to make sure he doesn't have the flu as well. But Jim would just refuse of course.

Leonard is just glad when Professor Gill calls the time for the test and they all start packing up. Jim's a bit antsy, but when he asks the kid, he just claims that he got test anxiety and that he's okay-and then grumbles something about Professor Rand and ass beatings. Leonard isn't quite sure how the two are related, but nonetheless he knows his friend is stressed.

Jim walks him back to his dorm before disappearing, leaving Leonard to fall asleep on the couch, the TV murmuring softly in the background.

When he wakes up his brain is foggy and he wants nothing more than to go back to sleep. He feels the heat in his face and the nausea in his stomach. The clock shows it's well past nine.

"Jim?" He calls, knowing the kid wouldn't have gone back to his own dorm; all of his belongings are here.

Leonard peeks over the couch, but the kitchen table is vacant and Jim's books are still piled up, untouched. So he hasn't been home-or back yet. Not home, this isn't the kid's home. This isn't his home.

With a hint of disappointment, Leonard sinks back down. He can't help but find Jim's lack of expertise in the field of medicine, funny. The kid seemed to be worn thin trying to take care of Leonard. Or it could be the piling stress on his shoulders, Leonard's not sure.

His eyes close and the next time he opens them the lights are dimmed and there's a blanket draped over his body, TV off. Slowly he sits up, glancing around. At first, he doesn't see Jim, but he can definitely hear him. Mumbling something under breath.

"Jim?"

The noise stops and there's a sharp intake of breath, right below him.

Leonard frowns; glancing down to his right is Jim, huddled up against the couch on the ground. The kid is shaking, his breathing loud and wheezy in the quiet room.

"You okay?" He asks, obviously Jim isn't, but for the sake of conversation, he asks, more of to get a response from the kid, in which he does, a simple nod.

Wow, Leonard never imagined the day Jim would admit it. Improvement, this is definitely improvement.

"Why don't you come up here?" Leonard offers, the adrenaline coursing through his veins from the sight making him forget about the nausea.

Jim doesn't comply, remaining curled up on the far side, away from Leonard. From here he can see the rapid intake of oxygen, the shivering of his hands, and the chattering of his teeth.

With a sigh, Leonard scoots himself off the couch, sitting on the ground a foot away from Jim.

"Hey, hey, what's going on kid, wanna talk about it?" Leonard reaches to grasp his hands, but the blond flinches violently and he retracts quickly.

Jim squeezes his hands into fists, clenches his jaw, and shuts his eyes tightly. Body huddled over his knees.

"Okay, okay Jimbo, just breathe." Leonard instructs, his heart hurting so bad to just grab him, to hold him close, but he refrains from doing so.

Jim seems to take his advice, finally letting out a long sigh, relaxing his tense muscles.

Leonard smiles encouragingly, "There ya go kid, that's it." He edges closer, as close as Jim will let him without retreating into a smaller form.

"Alright, talk to me kid." He commands gently.

Jim takes a moment to rub his eyes, willing his hands to stop shaking.

"It's nothin'."

Leonard scowls, "Nothing? You call that nothing?"

"Just a panic attack, it's okay." Jim waves it off carelessly.

"Just a panic attack? Jim! How can you say that? How long has that been going on?"

Jim rolls his eyes, already appearing to recover from the traumatic event, "Bones, I've had them for years, its okay. I know how to handle them." The blond objects, standing up.

"Yeah, really? Like you handled that one?"

Why does he always have to be so damn sarcastic?

It's a low blow and Jim seems slightly hurt, but his faltering expression recovers quickly.

"Sorry Jim, I didn't mean that." Leonard stands up, but then feels his stomach literally try to crawl out his mouth, and he trips forward, luckily into Jim's arms.

Damn the kid has fast reflexes.

"Woah, Bones. You alright?"

He clutches his stomach and Jim gets the message.

Swiftly yet graciously, Leonard is pulled away into the bathroom, where Jim helps him lean over the toilet, gagging up whatever's in his stomach.

He never knew Jim could handle someone with such precise gentleness, callused yet smooth hands holding him up, petting his hair, gracing his back with a few rubs. Leonard could just melt into Jim, eyes closing and knees giving up.

"Bones?" Jim nudges him and Leonard clears his throat, realizing he has sunken into the kid's lap, loosely hanging onto the toilet seat.

"Sorry." He manages, standing up abruptly.

Jim grabs him by the sides of his shirt, his fingers cold even through the fabric, bringing him to the sink to wash up.

Leonard rinses his mouth and peers into the mirror, seeing Jim's worried gaze fixed on him.

"Hey, you okay Bones? What do you want me to do?"

Leonard shivers at Jim's presence up along his back.

"Just tired kid." Leonard mutters and feels Jim's nod, "Okay, c'mon then."

He lets Jim sling his arm on about his shoulders, guiding him out of the bathroom. Leonard's placed slowly onto his bed and before he knows it, Jim's got his shoes and jacket off.

"Where've you been?" Leonard finally questions, squinting at the kid as he pulls back the covers to reveal the soft mattress.

Jim's lips purse and there's the hesitation gleaming in those ocean blue eyes, "Making up homework." The blond decides, glancing down onto the sheets and Leonard watches his hands. Just a few minutes ago those hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"What homework?"

The kid sighs and Leonard's gaze pulls to his face, expecting to see the kid do an eye roll, but instead there seems to be a haunted haze across his face, like a ghost has fallen onto his friend.

"Oh just astrophysics." Jim says it casually but they both know what that means.

"What did she say?" Leonard urges as Jim fluffs the pillow then proceeds to pat it, commanding him to lie down.

"Just stuff."

Leonard sinks into the bed, letting Jim tug the covers up, and yet intimate, strokes back the matted hair against his forehead. He hadn't even realized he had been sweating until now.

"I'll be right back."

He watches as Jim leaves, the kid's feet practically soundless against the floor.

Sleep is yanking at him, and by the time Jim reenters the room, he's eyes are fluttering shut and his body has become limp.

Suddenly, coldness reaches his forehead, and he must've whined because Jim hushes him, and damn Jim is so tender and polished with his ministrations. It's like some mother instinct (that he shouldn't have) has kicked into overdrive. The whole thing is intimate, yet somehow not. Jim's touches are somehow professional, even when the kid cards long fingers through his hair, wiping the cool wash cloth around his face and settling it on his forehead.

It's all soothing and Leonard can just feel himself fade into the mattress.

His eyes close for the last time, and he lets the darkness take him.

He should've known that Jim couldn't have taken care of this. The kid can barely take care of himself-actually scratch that, the kid 'can't' take care of himself and that's a fact. So for Leonard to expect him to take care of both himself and he, well that's just pushing his luck.

When he wakes up, Jim literally hasn't moved, still seated right beside him. The blond is leaning against the head board, eyes downcast, focused on the book cradled in his arms.

"What time is it?" He goes to ask, but it's more of incoherent mumbo-jumbo and Jim proceeds to glance over at him, eyes bloodshot, bags heavy beneath those blue orbs, yet his smile still seems to light the room.

"Morning Bones."

Leonard rolls his eyes, he wants the damn time.

"It's about six right now…" Jim does a double take on Leonard's PADD, "I have a class at nine so we'll just sit tight until then."

He squints at Jim, his brain wracking for the day. It has to be Thursday correct? That means he has Klingon Physiology and Forensic Psychology. His first class is at seven. Jim better let him go damn it.

"Here, want some water?"

Jim brings out a glass from thin air, presenting it to Leonard with a smirk. He just nods, letting Jim help him perch up to drink it.

"Thanks." He clears his throat, leaning back in a slouched position, "I have a class at seven."

The kid scoffs, "Nice try."

Leonard gives him a look, "I'm being serious."

"So was I." Jim retorts, glancing back down at the book and its then Leonard reads the title, "Is that my med book?"

Jim has that visible reaction to hide the book, but ends up just looking conflicting, realizing it's too late for that.

"Might be."

"Jim why are you reading that? You aren't taking a med class are you?"

Then it dawns on him and his heart pangs, "Jim, you don't have to read that." He softens up and Jim scowls, "No, no. I was reading it for my own enjoyment." Jim explains but they both know it's a lie.

"Really?"

Jim heaves a sigh, "Of course not. I just…I just wanted to take care of you like you do for me. I owe you so much Bones and I'll never be able to repay that…so I just thought maybe if I knew how-I dunno I just thought I'd be able to help…better?"

Leonard smiles, "Jim you don't owe me anything kid."

The kid's eyes may have watered just a tad, or Leonard's eyes were just too exhausted to see clearly, either way they don't mention it, simply smile at each other in complete understanding of the other.

Jim's the one to break the silence, he always is, "You're still not going to your class."

"Screw off, I'm twenty-eight years old and I don't need some kid like you telling me what I can and can't do." Leonard grumbles, bringing his legs to the floor.

Jim immediately springs from the bed, as if to catch Leonard if he faceplants-and maybe that is the reason.

"Twenty-eight my ass old man. You're sick and under my care, you will listen to whatever I say, or else." Jim threatens and Leonard smiles, "Or else what? All empty threats kid."

Suddenly Jim's eyes glow zealously and Leonard can only wish he could take back his words.

"Don't test me Bones."

Leonard can't imagine the things Jim would do. The kid has threatened to tie him to the bed frame before, would he really do it? Though with that look in his eyes, Jim would probably follow through with anything.

"Well Doctor Kirk, what do you want me to do then if I'm not allowed to go to class?"

"Sit tight, because I already emailed all your professors today and told them you weren't coming-also got Doctor M'Benga to put you down as excused due to medical illness so you're clear for today."

He grins, Jim does so much for him, how could the kid think he owes him so much?

"Thanks Jim."

The blond nods, "I'm going to run to the cafeteria to grab some food, can you handle being by yourself?"

Leonard scowls, "Jim get out of here! I'm not five!"

Jim smiles, avoiding Leonard's attempts to smack him, "Sit down old man! I'ma grab you something to munch on okay? Just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

He shakes his head, "I should be the one telling you not to do anything stupid while you're gone."

"Whatever Bones, I'll be right back-you better not leave that bed!" Jim scurries out of the room and Leonard hears the door open and close as the blond rushes out.

Jim seems to do everything at a hundred and ten miles per hour.

And as said, Jim is right back, bursting through the door with haste.

"Wow, that was fast." Leonard comments, peeking through the open doorway to catch the kid's eye roll, "I forgot my ID card." Jim retorts and waves it in the air once found, "Alright, I'll be back soon."

With a sigh Leonard lays back down, Jim's footsteps echoing away as the door shuts.

The kid is just too much, though he appreciates the kid's effort.

What had Jim so worried last night? He's known since day one the kid was a jig-saw puzzle of disaster. But panic attacks wasn't on the list of "Jim Kirk Issues". He knows the kid has trust and commitment issues, also along with his daddy issues and whatever he can make of his absent mother. But somehow panic attacks never made the list, this is a first. Though, just examining the past couple months, it's not surprising, the kid has already been through and participated in some jacked up shit.

Leonard just wishes this was something he could fix. Something that could be fixed with Jim just talking to him, or Leonard just hugging him until he melts. But it's not.

On the other hand, that makes Leonard feel special. For Jim to trust him blindly. Their relationship has had a rocky road, but somehow they've stayed friends-or became friends once more. Jim somehow has endured through it and has overcome it, just like he does everything else.

He can only guess what the future holds for them, especially with Jim on the command track. What if they're put on the same starship one day?

Leonard shivers at the thought.

Space his ass, he doesn't want to go, but Jim will need him up there. With that kid's long list of allergies, Jim wouldn't even last a day.

Jim needs Leonard, they need each other. They're a balance.

The blond returns a couple minutes later, exhaustion clearly pulling on him.

"Hey Bones, I brought you some soup-hope that's okay. If not I can get you something else."

Leonard quirks a smile, "Of course it's okay."

The kid just wants to please him.

Jim grins, "Okay, good. Because I don't want to go back there. "

Leonard sits upright, propped up with a mountain of pillows, as Jim climbs onto the bed beside him, holding both Leonard's and his own food in his hands.

Carefully, Jim hands Leonard the soup.

"Thanks." Leonard takes it, getting a good whiff of its mouthwatering scent.

"Mmhmm." Jim hums, eyes falling to his plate of food.

Scratch that. No food.

"What are you drinking?" Leonard asks curiously, "Coffee." Jim replies, taking a quick sip.

"That shit's black as hell."

Jim rolls his eyes, "That's because it's black coffee?"

"Like hell it is." Leonard mutters, shaking his head, "Stunt your growth ya know."

Jim frowns, "Like I'll be growing anytime soon?"

"Not vertically, just horizontally."

Leonard takes an elbow into his bicep, "Cut it out, lemme eat my soup in peace."

Jim shrugs, heaving himself from the bed, "Fine, bitch in peace then old man."

He's about to protest Jim leaving, but the kid has already escaped his sight. Of course he didn't actually mean it, he just wanted Jim to shut the hell up and let him eat, but not really leave him. Though he supposes Jim's lack of sleep has left him tired and moody, like always.

Eating the soup, Leonard keeps his ears open for Jim, listening to every movement. He recognizes the creak of the chair as Jim settles at the kitchen table, followed by the familiar sound of textbook pages being skimmed.

"Jim?" He calls.

The kid is in the doorway in a flash, tired yet hopeful eyes looking over at him.

"Just, stay here?"

It's an odd request, considering the fact he just told him to leave.

Yet, Jim nods hurriedly, "Okay Bones."

Leonard sets aside the empty bowl and soon enough Jim returns with his cup of coffee, crawling onto the cramped bed.

"Don't drink that." Leonard tells him and Jim obeys by placing it on the ground, "Happy?"

He nods.

Jim settles onto the bed, facing Leonard with falling eyes. The kid looks so worn, so defeated.

He sinks down onto the bed, lying flat on his back, ignoring Jim's unwavering gaze. It only takes a few minutes for Jim to pass out cold, obviously exhausted from staying up all night long, and it only takes a few minutes for Leonard to follow after.

When he wakes up, it's just him, bed sheets neatly thrown over his body. There's a glass of water on the nightstand and all the lights have been turned off. It's of course all Jim's doing. He checks the time on his PADD, and scowls.

It's almost noon.

Which means Jim should be in his psychology class by now.

He groans, heaving himself from the bed. It's not that he doesn't appreciate Jim's effort of clearing his schedule; rather he just doesn't like sitting around and doing nothin. He'd much rather be sick in class than sick at his dorm.

Putting on his cadet reds takes longer then he would've liked, but he's determined and he makes it out the door with his ID card without throwing up. Which is surprising, considering the twisting his stomach seems to be doing.

Leonard uses the walls for support, deciding logically to take the elevator down instead of the stairs. He doesn't run into many people, just a few students here and there who offer him a side glance and nothing else.

Damn it, he should've known the walk to class was going to be draining, yet his stubbornness got him there in the end, something Jim should be proud of. But when those doors opened to reveal the one and only Leonard McCoy standing in the light, nobody gave a care but one person, James Kirk.

He's always known the kid is damn agile, he's heard it from countless students in the combat training course; everyone says he's the best in class and he moves like lightning. But to see Jim spring from his chair and literally jump from table to table-getting yelled at by Professor Nichols-and then leaping up the stairs in elegant bounds of energy. Well, Leonard can't help but be impressed by the kid.

"Bones! What the hell?" Jim's grabbed him by the biceps, maybe to stop him from pitching forward in the sudden chaos known as Jim Kirk.

"Cadet Kirk!" Nichols' voice rings out and the room falls silent, "Explain yourself at once."

Jim visibly swallows, giving Leonard a hard look before turning his gaze to the professor, "Sorry ma'am, this is my friend, Bones, he's very sick with the flu-I thought he'd stay at the dorm but I guess it's messin' with his head."

"Bones?" Nichols echoes, completely confused.

Jim nearly slaps himself, "Cadet McCoy."

"Well then, Cadet McCoy, please vacate this classroom-"

"Actually, Professor Nichols, is it alright if I take him back? He's not doin' so hot." Jim interrupts, and Nichols seems slightly annoyed, yet at the same time, it appears to be a great opportunity of getting the infamous James Kirk out of her classroom.

"Fine, make it quick."

"Thanks."

Leonard blinks, his mind foggy. When was this ever a good idea?

"C'mon Bones, you're burning up."

Jim leads him away, taking him to the closest bathroom.

"Here, take this off." Jim helps him out his jacket, letting him lean against the sink.

Leonard closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Jim running the sink water. Then there's cold wetness hitting the back of his neck and he flinches.

"Woah, just hold up Bones-gotta bring your fever down."

Fever his ass, he feels fine.

He opens his eyes and the room almost spins away and he can feel Jim's hands gripping his arm to keep him upright.

Okay, yeah he has a fever alright. Damn flu.

Nausea clenches in his stomach and he can feel it burning his throat.

"I'm gonna throw up on you." He declares and heaves into the sink, eyes squeezed tight with the pain.

His hearing gets cut off and blackness surrounds him. All he can focus on is getting oxygen into his lungs, but he feels like he's drowning in his own vomit, gasping for breath.

A tingling sensation races across his body and suddenly he can feel Jim's hands, firm and secure, gripping his shoulder and rubbing circles into his back. Then he can hear Jim's voice, smooth and milky like butter on bread. It comes to him in waves, penetrating his ears.

"Breathe, breathe Bones. That's it old man."

Leonard scowls.

Old man.

"You're okay; I'm going to take you to Medbay."

"I don't need to go." Leonard replies, shaking his head, "Bones, you just threw up your goddamn stomach, I'm taking you over." Jim argues, running the water and helping him clean up.

"I'm feeling better."

Jim rolls his eyes, "You're sounding like me now."

"Jim, seriously, I just wanna go back to my dorm and sleep." Leonard continues, but Jim's mind seems to be set.

The kid worries too much. Maybe this will help him distress, knowing that he's okay. So he gives in.

"But Bones, this could get worse-I don't want you sick for weeks! We have finals coming up soon. Plus I don't know what to do with you when you're sick." Jim admits and Leonard sighs, "Alright fine, let's go."

 **Author's Note: Craziness is just my life guys. I can't believe I actually got this lowkey done in a timely fashion. Hopefully it's not too boring; it's just one of those in between type of chapters so it's just getting us to the bigger picture. Just an FYI, in the next few chapters I'm going to be officially getting rid of Hermione (she'll still make appearances but the issues between her and Jim will be completely sorted). Soon in a couple weeks I'll be writing more about their finals and creating their projects, and then hopefully be hitting the Kelvin Memorial so we'll see what that has in store for our boys. Live Long and Prosper.**


	31. Chapter 31

**"Here's to the nights that turned into mornings with the friends that turned into family."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 31**

His skin is crawling, tingling and prickling over every centimeter. He just wants to scratch it away, to remove the imperfections. Instead, he keeps tapping the pencil to his lips, eyes continuous scanning the paper for answers, all the while pretending not to notice the constant eyes watching him, criticizing him. His lungs seem to max out against his ribcage, unable to gather more oxygen.

He shuts his eyes, rubs his temples, and rereads the question. It's still a blur on the page and he can feel his heart begin to pound along with the frantic stamp of his foot against the ground. Impatience is hitting the forefront of his mind. He just wants this to be over; he just wants to go back to Bones.

The poor southerner is at his dorm room, all alone and sick with the flu. He had dropped him off after the test and gone immediately to Professor Rand's class to get the makeup work over with. Though instead, it appears Rand just wants to torture him.

She's sitting at her desk at the corner of the room, just a couple feet away. Jim can feel her eyes on him, shooting daggers at his skull. She knows, she must know.

His heart beats faster.

Sweat is collecting on his forehead and Jim just longs to rip out of his cadet reds, the collar becoming more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"Having trouble Cadet Kirk?" Rand's voice is like nails on chalk board in the previously quiet room, it's practically deafening, "No ma'am, just having a hard time focusing with you breathing down my neck."

Jim bites his tongue. He shouldn't have said that, it's only going to set the psycho woman off. Great, just great. What is Bones going to say about this when he gets back?

"Times up."

Jim frowns and watches as she snatches the quiz paper out from underneath his hands.

"Cadet, you barely answered anything." Rand sneers, glancing through his pathetic work.

It's true; he could barely answer any of it. When she had said to 'catch up on his assignments', Jim didn't take into account any quizzes he had missed.

"I haven't really had time to go over the modules I missed." Jim explains, eyes downcast as she squints at him.

"Your father would be disappointed."

Jim's heart skips a beat.

"Don't speak of my father." He snaps and Professor Rand's smile sends shivers down his spine, "I actually knew him."

He chews his lower lip raw, fingers drumming against the desk, "Is there anything else I missed ma'am?"

"Your father."

Jim stands furious, "I said to not speak of him." He points a finger at her accusingly.

Professor Rand appears unfazed by his anger, "You know, Hermione spoke quite highly of you before you two broke up."

Shaking his head he begins to leave, gathering his things with haste and Rand lets a moment slip by, "She said the same thing you know."

His heart stops, hands shaking in tight fists.

He can still feel her naked body, smooth and glowing around his own. He can still see the curves of her body against the moonlight and hear her gentle voice in his ear.

It's all too real.

His father's death is too real.

He's standing in his dorm room again, using Bones as support, staring after Hermione as she heads for the door, all his wants and desires falling after her.

Her words echo in his mind, over and over.

 _"After all of this James, how could you do this to me? I thought I could trust you."_

James, she is one of the few people to call him by his real name. He's not sure if he loved her. Maybe he just loved the idea of her, the notion that went through his head every time he saw her. She was strong, she was protection, she was love.

 _"Hermione, please."_

His plea had died on his lips that day. He himself wasn't sure what he was asking for at the time. Hermione was abusive and controlling. She reminded him of his Uncle Frank, and maybe that's why she felt like home. Maybe that's why he wasn't quite ready for her to leave.

 _"You should've died on that ship with your father. That way he wouldn't have such an embarrassment of a son."_

Disappointment, his father would be so disappointed in him.

He stills remembers the pain of that moment, the pain of the truth.

Then she'd left and he had felt a whole tear in his chest, leaving an emptiness that just couldn't be filled at the time. He'd felt lost.

"I should've died on that ship." He murmurs, eyes staring at the door, yet unseeing.

"That's one way to put it."

Jim walks up the steps, tears brimming in his eyes.

He's not quite sure what he did between the time of leaving that room and reaching Bones' dorm, he just knows by the time he gets there he's only functioning on autopilot. He can just feel the panic attack rising in his chest.

It's coming closer and closer and he just wants to distract his mind from it. So he tucks Bones in with a blanket, dims the lights and turns the TV off.

Jim then collapses beside the couch, curling into himself. Tears streak down his face and his breath hitches. He presses his hands together in his lap, squeezing them. His chest rises up and down repeatedly, yet no air reaches his lungs.

"Breathe-breathe-breathe. Just breathe." He tells himself as he wheezes, willing himself to calm down, "Just breathe Jim."

"In," Jim takes a breathe, "and out," he sighs.

He keeps repeating the process.

"Jim?"

His breath hitches and his heart pounds in his ears. Then he hears movement above him. It's Bones, peeking down at him, but Jim clamps his eyes shut.

"You okay?" Bones asks, his drawling southern accent thick like honeydew from sleep.

Jim nods, because damn it, he can't just explain what's happening. How can he tell Bones he's having a panic attack because Professor Rand decided to bring up some terrible memories?

"Why don't you come up here?"

The offer sounds genuine and Jim would take him up on that offer but he can't get his damn legs to move. But instead, Bones moves to him and he can feel the anxiety seize up within him, making his teeth chatter.

He's such a failure.

"Hey, hey, what's going on kid, wanna talk about it?"

Out of the blackness a hand touches his own and he snags away. Thoughts of Hermione flood his mind. The way she touched him when he didn't want to be touched and where he didn't want to be touched.

He blinks, breathing through the panic

"Okay, okay Jimbo, just breathe."

He longs to scream and cry instead. He just wants Bones to hold him, but he takes the advice, letting the southerner's voice soothe him enough to let himself relax against the couch.

"There ya go kid, that's it." Bones says and Jim feels him get closer, the feverish warmth emitting from the man's body.

He tries not to shrink away, to allow the closeness.

"Alright, talk to me kid." Bones drawls and Jim sniffs, rubbing his eyes to make sure he doesn't see the tears there, "It's nothin'."

He can practically hear the frown on the man's face, "Nothing? You call that nothing?"

He tries to make it sound casual, "Just a panic attack, it's okay."

"Just a panic attack? Jim! How can you say that? How long has that been going on?"

Okay, that was too casual. He shouldn't have said that. Bones appears to be fuming beside him and Jim just rolls his eyes, trying his best to brush it off,"Bones, I've had them for years, its okay. I know how to handle them."

He stands, proving that he's fine, but the southerner's frown doesn't leave his face, "Yeah, really? Like you handled that one?"

His expression falters for a moment. He hadn't expected a low blow from Bones. But he recovers quickly. The southerner is just sick, he's isn't in his best of minds right now.

"Sorry Jim, I didn't mean that."

The southerner hurriedly gets to his feet, only to pitch forward. Shocked, Jim's reactions send him stepping in front of Bones, catching him in his arms.

"Woah, Bones. You alright?" He adjusts Bones in his arms, helping him stand upright.

But all Bones can manage is a whimper and a hand gripping at his stomach. Jim nods, the man's about to puke his guts out any moment.

So as carefully as he can, he brings Bones to the bathroom, letting him lean over the toilet-and it's just in time. For the second the southerner touches the lip of the toilet he's throwing up, shaking all over in cold sweats.

His heart pangs in his chest.

Jim crouches down beside him, rubbing circles into his shoulder blades and stroking back greasy strands of brown hair. Almost immediately the tension melts away and Bones practically falls into his lap, humming with relief.

He feels the heat come off of him in waves and for a moment, Jim's enticed to wrap his arms around Bones, to hug him and press his face to the man's back to breathe in his scent. But he refrains from doing so; instead he taps Bones' shoulder, "Bones?" He presses and the brunette grunts, snapping out his daze.

Bones then stands shakily and Jim pops up beside him, grasping the sides of his shirt to keep him from falling. He then guides him to the sink to wash up, his eyes watching him with uneasiness. He just feels so useless.

"Hey, you okay Bones? What do you want me to do?" Jim asks, leaning a little closer into Bones, to feel the strength built in his muscles, despite the sickness.

"Just tired kid." Bones mumbles, eyes barely staying up and Jim just nods, "Okay, c'mon then."

He takes his arm and slings it about his shoulders, steering him out of the bathroom and towards and actual bed. Bones shouldn't be sleeping on the couch; it'll be bad for his back. Once settled he helps him out of his shoes and jacket, handling the southerner with tenderness.

The gears must've finally begun to turn because Bones asks the question he's been waiting for, "Where've you been?"

He pulls back the sheets and purses his lips, debating on whether or not he should tell him the truth, "Making up homework." Jim decides.

Jim can almost hear the southerner's brow quirking, "What homework?"

He sighs, his mind going through the events, shivering.

"Oh just astrophysics." He says with confidence but inwardly cringes at himself; they both know Professor Rand is trouble. "What did she say?" Bones inquires and he doesn't spare him a glance as he rearranges the pillow and pats it, informing the southerner to lie down.

Jim has to stop the loud exhale from escaping his lips, "Just stuff."

Bones' face looks unconvinced, but nonetheless the man collapses down, eyes already fluttering. Jim smirks slightly and brings the blankets up to his shoulders, and without thought, brushes back the hair sticking to his forehead.

There's a slight look of confusion on Bones' face at the action, but Jim quickly turns away.

"I'll be right back."

Jim fleets away, gathering up a bowl and wash cloth and quickly filling the bowl full of water. Upon his return to the room, Bones looks asleep, his face ashen and unmoving.

His bites his lip, climbing onto the bed, making sure not to spill the water. Then, as kindly as he can, he brings the wash cloth across Bones' forehead, hoping to soothe the wrinkles from it. Bones whines at the touch but Jim smiles and hushes him, while running his fingers through his hair.

Bones noticeably relaxes and gives up the last fight of consciousness. Yet, Jim remains by his side, making sure he's fallen off into a deep sleep before stopping his ministrations.

Sighing, he places the cloth and bowl aside, rubbing his face to clear his blurring vision.

Damn he's tired.

He looks at Bones, watching his chest rise and fall with deep breaths. He should be able to do more; he should be able to help Bones through this-not feel so damn useless all the time.

Chewing his lip, he takes Bones' PADD, unlocking it with ease and pulling up his email. Without much thought he sends out a message to Bones' professors for that day, informing them of Bones'-or Cadet McCoy's condition and how he won't be attending class. Afterwards he sends a request to Doctor M'Benga to clear Bones of classes, giving him an excused absence.

Once done, Jim heads for the kitchen quietly, getting a glass and filling it just in case Bones wakes up and is thirsty in the middle of the night. On the table sits all his books, waiting to be read, none of them are useful pertaining to his current situation though.

If only he knew more about all that medical crap that Bones mumbles in his sleep.

He heads back into the room, setting the drink on the desk before crawling onto the sheets. Jim leans back, letting himself fall against the headrest. Sleep, he just needs to sleep. But at the same time, a thought strikes him. Bones is taking medical classes, which means he has medical textbooks. One of those has to have something on basic care.

With new determination he heaves himself off the bed, careful as not to wake the slumbering southerner. He knows Bones would disapprove of this, the southerner would just rather have him sleep, but at the same time he wants to be able to help Bones and this is the only way he knows how.

It only takes a few minutes for him to find the textbook, for Bones has them stacking in the corner of his room, looking hardly touched. Bones didn't seem to need as much studying as he did; actually Bones hardly did outside class work like he does. Everything sticks in the man's head like a magnet, he never forgets. Jim on the other hand has to drill something into his head to remember it-which explains his falling grades. If he wants to complete all this shit training in three years, he's going to have to study harder to pull the grades.

Bones would never have the problem, the southerner is a genius, and that's putting it simply.

Jim gets back onto the bed, holding the book on his lap and flipping to the first page. He's uncertain about most of the medical terms, but there are pictures and examples on the side that help him out. If he doesn't understand a passage he rereads it until he does. Then if he thinks he's forgotten something, he tries to repeat it silently in his head to make sure it's still in there. Though considering he reads that damn textbook all night, he's not quite sure what he remembers or what he already knew by morning.

But he's fairly certain that his eyes hurt from reading in the dim light, and the muscles in his neck have cramped up. His whole body is stiff so he doesn't move from his cross-legged position on the bed, too tired to care at this point.

"What time is it?"

The overly heavy drawl sparks his heart rate and he barely stops himself from jumping off the bed. Luckily Bones barely notices the reaction due to his sleepiness. So he smiles down at Bones, "Morning Bones."

The southerner groans, rolling his eyes and Jim double checks the time on Bones' PADD, "It's about six right now…" He hums, thinking, he has Xenobiology and Forensic Psychology today, "I have a class at nine so we'll just sit tight until then."

"Here, want some water?" Jim snatches the glance and brings it towards Bones. The southerner begins to sit upright and he helps him with a hand on his back.

Bones drinks it greedily, downing the glass in seconds.

"Thanks." The brunette gulps, clearing his throat, "I have a class at seven." Bones adds and Jim scowls, "Nice try."

Of course Bones didn't want to miss a class. Damn stubborn mule.

And that said stubborn mule glares at him with such intensity it could break glass, "I'm being serious."

Jim almost laughs; Bones' voice is so gruff and adorable, "So was I." He replies coolly and looks back down at his book, pretending not to notice Bones' stare.

"Is that my med book?"

He almost flinches, and for moment he wants to hide the book, suddenly embarrassed at Bones' discovery, "Might be." He huffs carelessly, "Jim why are you reading that? You aren't taking a med class are you?" Bones inquires and Jim freezes, unsure of how to respond.

"Jim, you don't have to read that." Bones continues and Jim frowns, realizing that Bones realized why he's reading it, "No, no. I was reading it for my own enjoyment." He tells him, though it's a horrible lie.

"Really?" The brunette says sarcastically, making him sigh, "Of course not. I just…I just wanted to take care of you like you do for me. I owe you so much Bones and I'll never be able to repay that…so I just thought maybe if I knew how-I dunno I just thought I'd be able to help…better?"

He doesn't look up as Bones replies, "Jim you don't owe me anything kid."

His eyes slightly water at that, or its vision blurring due to lack of sleep, either way all he manage is a simple smile of understanding. Knowing that, even though it's just a little thing, it means a lot in their friendship.

Though, he's quick to break the sudden silence, "You're still not going to your class."

"Screw off, I'm twenty-eight years old and I don't need some kid like you telling me what I can and can't do."

Bones plants his feet to the floor and Jim scrambles to other side. If the southerner plans on standing, then he plans on catching him if he falls.

"Twenty-eight my ass old man. You're sick and under my care, you will listen to whatever I say, or else."

Bones can only grin at his threat, "Or else what? All empty threats kid."

Jim leans in, focusing in his gaze on Bones' bright hazel eyes, "Don't test me Bones."

The southerner refrains slightly, "Well Doctor Kirk, what do you want me to do then if I'm not allowed to go to class?"

Jim smirks, "Sit tight, because I already emailed all your professors today and told them you weren't coming-also got Doctor M'Benga to put you down as excused due to medical illness so you're clear for today."

"Thanks Jim." The gratitude is genuine and Jim nods, "I'm going to run to the cafeteria to grab some food, can you handle being by yourself?"

"Jim get out of here! I'm not five!"

Jim hops up, avoiding Bones' hands as he's nearly smacked, "Sit down old man! I'ma grab you something to munch on okay? Just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"I should be the one telling you not to do anything stupid while you're gone."

"Whatever Bones, I'll be right back-you better not leave that bed!" He hurries out of the room before Bones can do or say anything else.

But halfway through the hallway, he remembers that he left his ID card in the room, so he rushes back in only to hear Bones' damn comment, "Wow, that was fast."

Jim rolls his eyes at Bones, "I forgot my ID card." Said ID card now waving in his hand, mocking Bones, "Alright, I'll be back soon."

He feels like he's never raced so fast to the cafeteria, or maybe it's the fact that the campus is practically empty. Most classes don't start until seven or after, so most students are still sleeping soundly in their dorms. And Jim likes it this way; he can finally enjoy the open spaces and fresh air.

The cafeteria is just as empty, a few stranglers here and there, grabbing what they can manage from the replicators.

Weariness weighing his shoulders, Jim orders some chicken noodle soup and a hot cup of coffee, hoping to get the energy back into his system with it being straight up black. He then heads back, wasting no time getting back to Bones' dorm. He doesn't want to leave him alone for long, what if he throws up again?

Upon opening the door, he tries his best to smile, "Hey Bones, I brought you some soup-hope that's okay. If not I can get you something else."

"Of course it's okay."

Jim heads over, "Okay, good. Because I don't want to back there."

Bones sits up and Jim climbs in beside him, handing him the soup, careful not to spill his coffee onto his lap.

"Thanks." Bones says, leaning over and smelling it, Jim just hums "Mmhmm." Eyes not leaving the steaming cup of coffee, though Bones just so happens to realize that he's not eating, "What are you drinking?"

Jim brings the cup to his lips and says, "Coffee," before taking a burning sip of it.

Bones glances over at it, scowling incredulously, "That shit's black as hell."

He can't help but roll his eyes at the southerner, "That's because it's black coffee?"

"Like hell it is." The brunette grumbles and Jim tries to shrug him off, but the southerner is pretty damn persistent when he's grumpy, "Stunt your growth ya know."

"Like I'll be growing anytime soon?"

"Not vertically, just horizontally."

Jim elbows him playfully, but Bones doesn't take the bait, instead snaps at him, "Cut it out, lemme eat my soup in peace."

"Fine, bitch in peace then old man." Jim scampers off the bed, shoulders sagging slightly, and Bones lets him leave in silence.

He makes his way to the table, collapsing into the chair and bringing out one of his books. Might as well start on that stupid Prime Directive project while he's here. Though, his heart wishes only to be at Bones' side. They're both tired, and both moody. He shouldn't have said that, not to Bones, especially when he's sick.

He's taking another sip at his coffee, skimming through the book when Bones calls his name and he nearly spits it out in his haste to get to the doorway.

"Just, eat here?"

It's almost plea, rather than a request, and Jim nods, practically anxious to sit right back beside Bones, where he belongs, "Okay Bones." He keeps it casual, but he barely contains the smile as he sits beside his friend.

But Bones scowls at the cup after setting aside his empty bowl of soup, "Don't drink that."

Pursing his lips he bends over, almost falling off the bed, placing the mug on the ground and meets Bones' gaze, "Happy?"

The southerner nods in appreciation.

He grins, but he feels his body sagging so he settles down, facing Bones so he can watch him. Bones mimics him, only lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling like it held the universe in it.

After a few moments of staring at Bones, he feels his eyes flutter shut, and soon the darkness is wrapping around him, pulling him under.

When he wakes up, he swiftly checks the time, noting that he has ten minutes until class begins and he'd rather not be late. He's already missed enough classes-after the whole drug addict thing. Groaning, he hauls himself up, expecting to get dressed until to realize that he's already in full uniform. Even his boots are still tied to his feet. Goddamn he must look like a bed ridden mess.

Using his ninja skills, Jim straightens out his uniform while also replenishing the glass of water, and before leaving, re-tucks the sheets about Bones' body, not even causing him to stir once as he moves.

Jim sprints to class, and it isn't the first time he's done this, nor will it be the last considering his life.

Xenobiology with Professor Mondy. God, kill him now. Meeting Professor Rand was heart wrenching enough, how can he possibly prepare himself to face Hermione? Their relationship practically ended in a literal explosion, one that still makes him shiver thinking about it.

He's not ready for this, mentally or emotionally. It's too soon-but it's also too late as he heads through the room, squeezing past students and quickly taking his normal seat. Though the bitch doesn't take hers, instead she steals a seat right behind him, so close that he can feel her breath against his neck.

Jim grips the bottom of the chair, shutting his eyes, willing his breathing to slow. Years ago as a child he was taught breathing exercises, but those had long since been forgotten. He hadn't listened much during those years, after Tarsus IV.

"Hey, James." She whispers, making his skin crawl, tingling all the way from his neck to his toes and he forces his mouth to clamp shut before he says something he'll regret.

Professor Mondy is starting the class, yet, all his mind can fixate on is the person behind him. He listens to her tap the pencil against the desk, listens to her shift in the chair, lick her lips, breathe a sigh.

If he gets through the class sweating his ass off, trying not to vomit at the attacking memories, well nobody seems to care. The moment class is dismissed he's trying to get away, as far as his feet will let him-because believe it or not, he's drawn to her, like a moth to light. He knows she's danger, he knows she's hurt and trouble all meant for him. But that's just it, that's why he's consumed by her.

He loves the fact she controls him, that she dictates what he does and what he thinks. Everything about her is familiarity. Her resemblance to Frank's abuse is perpetual and that both terrifies him and makes him gravitate towards her.

And he hates himself for that.

So exiting the scene as quickly as possible is his best course of action. But, she just has to touch him, in that subtle brush that he just knows is her, so he stops, turning around to face the she devil.

The audacity she has to actually smile at him and say, "Oh baby," makes him grimace.

"Hermione-"

He has so many damn things to say, to finally release. Because he has to be rid of her, but she cuts him off with that dominate way she does, "James, how have you been? My mother said you weren't fairing well."

Jim splutters-her mother didn't give a shit about him, actually she might as well have pointed a phaser at his head and told him to 'screw off'.

"I'm fine-Hermione, we need to talk."

"Oh of course." She nods her head, smiling.

Jim has a feeling that they have two different conversations in mind, but nonetheless he seizes the moment-because if this takes any longer then it needs to be he might have another panic attack.

They leave the classroom, oddly far apart, yet eerily close for liking.

"So Hermione what I've been meaning to say-"

Hermione lounges straight into his arms and he reacts just in time to catch her, "Oh James, I knew you'd come back. I've missed you so much."

He bites his lip, stabilizing her back on her own feet, "Actually Hermione, I just want to tell you that-"

"Tell me what?"

Jim suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, "If you'd just lemme finish."

"Good ahead then." She nods somewhat impatiently.

"Hermione you just gotta stop. Look our relationship was great and all-and look, you're a wonderful person and it's been hard but we both need to move on okay? I think it's just for the best."

That's what he meant to say, something along those lines, where he could get her to ease off and leave him be. But instead his anxiety took over and he ends up a rambling mess.

"Look Hermione, I don't know what you're trying to do but it's gotta stop. I'm so tired of you just throwing yourself into me. Don't you understand that we're through damn it? I honestly wish we never got together-I should've known from meeting your mother that you wouldn't be much better." He grounds out and she retracts, taking a few steps away.

And damn, this is it isn't it?

"I was just trying to help you James-but all you do instead is blame all your problems on me!"

"Because you're the source of my problems!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah really! You're a control freak and you only care about yourself."

"You're not any different asshole." She growls and adds after a pause, "I should've hooked up with that sexy doctor instead."

Jim shakes his head, "You don't even know him-and you better stay away from him."

"Don't know him?" She shrieks a laugh and Jim can feel his stomach fall.

Did something happen between them?

"Basically had him like a dog on a leash after one night." Hermione recalls with a chuckle which nearly drives Jim over the edge, "What are you talking about?"

"Even got him to kiss me-and boy does he have such soft lips-no one would've guessed with that scruffy face of his."

"Hermione!"

"Calm yourself James, I only cheated on you just that once." She replies, waving him off.

Irritated Jim rolls his eyes, "Hermione what are you talking about?"

She pauses, remembering that day, "Remember when you cried during s-"

"Okay yeah-yeah." He grumbles, he still has nightmares about that night, "Well before that I visited your doctor friend."

He frowns; he doesn't recall her mentioning that during her testimony…but hold up. Didn't the Academy Board ask Bones if she had visited? It had been an odd question and they also asked Hermione the same thing.

Disgusted he looks away from her, "Can we just agree to never speak to each other again?"

Hermione purses her lips, "Alright, but the doctor is still on the open market, he's sexy as hell."

"Screw off," Jim mutters turning away, "crazy bitch."

He leaves Hermione behind him, heading straight for his Forensic Psychology class which starts at eleven, making it a tight time gap to get from one class to the other, especially after his chat with Hermione.

By the time he manages to get himself situated, he's calmed his breathing. But his hands still ring themselves out subconsciously. And of course, only to make matters worse, Francis Donovan decides to sit beside him this particular day, making Jim groan.

"Where's McCoy?" Francis implores and Jim looks up at him, "At the dorm, pretty sick right now…got the flu."

"Hmm." Francis seems uninterested in the subject, so Jim turns his attention to Professor Nichols, prepping for class.

She's more than likely going to spend her time explaining their first semester final. Which is just going to be great. Because it's not like he's got a million other classes to worry about. Though, it's just Forensic Psychology, how hard can it be?

Just the description of the test has Jim yanking his hair out of his skull. This isn't going to be any fun. When Nichols told the class, they all complained, well silently in their heads, because they know better not to whine in front of her. She'd make an example out of a student real quick if they did.

It's the middle of class, and Jim should've known it'll only get worse. Because damn it all, he needs to take into account Murphy's Law more often.

There's a loud bang, followed by a few murmurs and the professor stopping mid-speech. Everybody's head turns to squint over at the man bathing in all of the hallway light, streaming from behind him. And it only takes him a second longer to realize its Bones.

Instantly he bursts forth, not bothering sidestepping every person in his row-instead he climbs on top of his own desk and proceeds to leap from desk to desk, ignoring Professor Nichols' protests. When he reaches the stairs, he takes them three at a time, reaching Bones in mere seconds with everyone staring at him awestricken.

"Bones! What the hell?"

He grabs him by the biceps, and Bones nearly sinks into him.

The professor's voice finally penetrates his ears and he grimaces, "Cadet Kirk! Explain yourself at once."

Jim cringes slightly, giving Bones a little glare before turning to face Nichols, "Sorry ma'am, this is my friend, Bones, he's very sick with the flu-I thought he'd stay at the dorm but I guess it's messin' with his head." He explains, but Professor Nichols scowls at him, "Bones?" She inquires and he mentally face-palms, "Cadet McCoy." He elaborates.

She gazes at the two of them skeptically, "Well then, Cadet McCoy, please vacate this classroom-" Jim cuts in real quick, "Actually, Professor Nichols, is it alright if I take him back? He's not doin' so hot."

Somehow she glares harder at him, "Fine make it quick."

"Thanks." He gives her a nod before facing Bones, hauling him upright, "C'mon Bones, you're burning up."

He steers the southerner for the closest bathroom, noticing the greenish hue that colors the man's skin. When they get inside he leans him against the sink, "Here, take this off."

Jim takes his jacket and turns on the faucet water, splashing some of it on his neck, making Bones shrink away from the coldness.

"Woah, just hold up Bones-gotta bring your fever down." He tells him, and grabs his arms when he feels him tipping over slightly.

Bones then grumbles a "I may throw up on you," before proceeding to throw up in the sink. Damn bastard.

Jim just holds him tightly, fearing the southerner might topple over without the extra support. How Bones made it all the way to class is beyond him. The man's a shivering mess, sweating his ass off with fever.

Bones' breathing is all over the place so Jim rubs his back soothingly, "Breathe, breathe Bones. That's it old man."

"You're okay, I'm going to take you to Medbay."

Bones' shakes his head and Jim frowns at him, "I don't need to go."

Jim scoffs at him, of course he doesn't need to go, "Bones, you just threw up your goddamn stomach, I'm taking you over." He demands sharply as he helps Bones clean up.

Yet, Bones still objects, "I'm feeling better."

He rolls his eyes at the statement, "You're sounding like me now."

"Jim, seriously, I just wanna go back to my dorm and sleep."

No, Bones isn't going back to his dorm; he needs to go see a doctor. Jim is no doctor so he can't fix this, but someone at Medbay can. He feels guilty for making Bones go, but he seriously doesn't know what to do for him. If he was sick and Bones was taking care of him, they'd have no problem. Bones is a medical genius. Jim on other hand honestly doesn't know squat-he's never had someone take care of him before, besides Bones.

Medbay is their only option, whether or not Jim has to drag Bones there against his will.

So he continues to argue, "But Bones, this could get worse-I don't want you sick for weeks! We have finals coming up soon. Plus I don't know what to do with you when you're sick." He points out and Bones seems to give in with a contemplated sigh, "Alright fine, let's go."

 **Author's Note: Can this be considered fashionably late? Is that a thing on this website? Anyways, here's some more adorable sick Bones for you guys, hoped you liked it! Yes I do have plans for the upcoming chapters (no I'm not lying [or I might be because I honestly have no idea what I'm doing], all I can hope for is that you guys actually enjoy this). I'm hoping to wrap up their first semester in these next couple chapters because if it takes me a year to write one semester, then this story is going to take six years to write, and I don't think I'm ready for that type of commitment. So I don't think this story will continue to travel this slowly, or it might. Maybe I will write for six years, you never know. Sorry for rambling, I do that. Well, hope you've enjoyed it so far then and stay tuned for the next chapter, if you have any ideas or suggestions hit me up in those pms. Live Long and Prosper.**


	32. Chapter 32

**"If you need me, call me. I don't care if I'm sleeping, if I'm having my own problems or if I'm angry at you. If you need me and if you need to talk to me, I'll always be there for you. No matter how big or how small your problem is, I'll be there."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 32**

Either he's upset or exhausted, Leonard can't tell. Since returning to his dorm from Medbay Jim has been uncharacteristically quiet. Of course the past few days have weighed down on him quite heavily, catching up on class work isn't easy. But it's the simple things that have Leonard on edge. It's in the way he holds himself, his attitude, his posture, his charisma. All of it has been affected. And he just can't figure out why this is happening to Jim.

"I can hear you thinking." Jim comments, coming around the couch to collapse beside him, sighing like a storm could escape his lungs, "Thinking is healthy."

"Well I think you're thinking too hard." The blond mutters, shoving a drink into his hand.

Leonard shakes his head, "How you manage to find my stashes I dunno."

Just because of Jim, Leonard started hiding his alcohol throughout the dorm, yet Jim always seems to find it no matter what. It can be in the oddest of places and Jim could still sniff it out a mile away.

"Where there's a will, there's a way." Jim scoffs into his drink.

He rolls his eyes, "That's one way of putting it."

Leonard doesn't exactly want to drink, but he can tell Jim has something on his mind that he wants to say, and the blond isn't going to bring it up if they're both sober. So he pops the cap and takes a drink. The alcohol is unsettling in his stomach, but maybe after the third bottle it won't be as bad.

Jim practically chugs the drink, not wasting any time taking breaths between gulps. There's a glassy look in his eyes and a distant glaze, like there's rainclouds gathering within them. Leonard can only humor him and quirk a smile, drinking in silence.

It's only when Leonard has barely finishes his first, and Jim being on his third, that the blond says something, his words slurring as they roll from his tongue, "Why'd you let her do that Bones?"

He frowns, scratching the back of his neck, feeling the feverish heat that had once been there fade away with the now impending headache.

Leonard dares a glance Jim's way, the kid's eyes still haunted.

"What are you talking about kid?"

Jim nearly spills the bottle as he goes to cradle his head, "She told me Bones-she told me and you didn't do anything."

There's a tone of desperation, maybe fear in the blond's voice.

Leonard grips Jim's shoulder, ignoring the flinch, "Jim, you gotta tell me more than that."

"Hermione."

The kid spits the name with venom, taking a shuddering breath that is so close to sobs that it makes Leonard's heart twist and fall into his stomach.

He remembers that night still. He thought he'd never have to tell Jim about it. Jim shouldn't know about this.

If he recalls correctly he'd been recovering from the night before, that being his daughter's birthday. And he'd been so pissed at Jocelyn. Hermione had shown up while Jim was getting the shit knocked out of him by Francis, and she'd managed to get some of his beers. She was very active that night, and not just in the way of running her mouth. She tried to make advances on him, and maybe for a moment he let himself fall into the trap, but the press of her lips had snapped him out of it.

But that's all that happened, after that he'd told her Jim's whereabouts, because apparently she didn't know where his dorm was-though Jim does say he doesn't do his business in his own room. The kid had mentioned something about the girls finding him and chasing him down with knives if they knew where he slept. At the time he'd laughed, but now that seems like a possible happening.

"So, did it happen or did she lie?" Jim prompts, head still hanging in his hands.

This is all his fault. A good friend would've told him to breakup with Hermione. A good friend would've stopped him from running to the dorm. A good friend would've kicked Hermione out. A good friend wouldn't have a broken friend-but maybe Jim was broken before he came. Maybe two broken friends can fix each other.

"Jim I…" He trails off; biting his lip and willing the tears not to fall, because god he's been the worst friend someone could ask for. Only if he could've been better than this, whatever the hell he is anymore, Jim would have someone more reliable, more caring and loving. The things Jim needs in his life. Not Leonard, nobody needs Leonard.

But maybe that's why Jim calls him Bones.

The blond glances up at the sound of his brokenness, "Oh shit, Bones…"

Jim lunges forward, dropping the bottle on the ground to spill-but that's a problem for another time, and wrapping his arms around Leonard's neck, pressing his face into his shoulder. Leonard in return grabs around his back, squeezing his eyes shut.

"God-we're such a mess." Jim mumbles and Leonard releases a wet laugh, "I'm sorry Jim, I didn't mean to cheat with your girlfriend-and I didn't mean for her to go to your dorm."

"Bones, it's okay."

"It's all my fault, I should've stopped her." Leonard goes on, feeling Jim's shaky breaths blow against him, "Bones, it's okay, I don't want you to feel guilty about it."

Jim just hugs him, tightly and with the last of his strength. He lets the warmth sink into his muscles, relaxing until he can breathe easily alongside Jim.

With a long sigh Leonard braces his arms on the kid's shoulders, forcing them apart a few inches so he can see the blond's reddened face, eyes welling with unshed tears, "Goddamn it Jim, be human for once won't you? It's okay to broken and pissed at me."

Jim's laugh comes out more like a sob of relief, stress seeming to fade from his muscles, collapsing against Leonard with boundless trust.

Leonard catches all of him, even the messy parts. It's his turn to hold on tight.

"I messed up Bones." Jim cries into his chest.

He holds him close, breathing in the kid's scent in his hair, "We all do kid."

"I still want her Bones and I hate myself for that." The blond admits miserably, "I just see her and I get…I get you know-I just…"

He can feel Jim waving his hand as he tries to express his thoughts, ultimately failing and instead resorting to clutching onto Leonard's shirt.

Leonard sighs, closing his eyes, letting the tears spill over and fall into blond hair, "You just gotta let go kid, I know it's not easy, but it's all we can do now."

Jim nods against his chest, sniffling and shaking. And if Jim cries again ten minutes later with frustrations beyond Leonard's understanding, well he doesn't say anything. He just gathers Jim up with a blanket over the both of them. They share the couch and they share each other's comfort, both hoping for a better tomorrow.

They wake up Friday morning, fairly early. The smell of alcohol is strong, mixed with the scent of sweat. The dorm is dark and the sound of breathing fills the room. Leonard's eyes open slowly and when he goes to turn, he's stopped by a large mass of limbs on top of him. It's Jim, passed out, sleeping on his chest.

Realization dawns on him and he nearly laughs. Their breakdown was pathetic, yet it was needed. Both of them are simply human. He can only hope that Jim finally breaking down in front of him will only be a healthy step in their friendship.

"Hey, Jim."

"Huh…"

The weight is lifted slowly and suddenly their eyes meet in the dark. There's a new light in Jim's eyes, youthful and carefree.

They needed last night to happen.

"Jim…" Leonard coughs and Jim blushes.

The kid is crouched over him in quite a compromising position, Jim's right between his legs, their hips merely an inch apart. Jim's blush only brightens. In his haste to get out of the tangle of Leonard's legs, the kid tumbles off the couch-luckily not into the new stain of alcohol.

"Shit, sorry Bones." Jim's head pops up from the floor and all he can manage is a shake of his head, "You got extra clothes?"

"Really?"

"I haven't done laundry in days."

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, it's in my room."

Jim nods and scurries off.

His heart slows down. God, Jim's going to be the death of him.

In a flash Jim is running off with Leonard's reds and jumping into the bathroom, door slamming shut behind him. He sighs, sitting up and rubbing his temples.

He's getting too old for this.

Leonard heaves himself, checks the time, mentally curses himself, and sinks back into the couch cushions. It's only three-thirty in the morning and Jim is acting like its well past eight. What the hell, doesn't the kid need to sleep? Then again, the blond does have his hand-to-hand combat training course. It took him a long time to figure out, but apparently the reason for it being so early is because some people-some different species of life forms-actually function in the god-awful hours of the morning. Even though Starfleet is mainly human ran, they are making changes to accommodate more species.

"Ugh." He slumps, eyes falling shut.

It's only a few minutes later Jim comes out of the bathroom, dripping wet, trousers on, shirt and jacket slung over his shoulder, and his pants making its way up his ass.

"Have you ever heard of a thing called a towel?" He grumbles from the couch and Jim gives him a smirk, "There's none in there."

"Great."

Jim gracefully slips on the rest of the clothes, but Leonard is a size bigger than he is so everything has a baggy look to it, not form fitting like they usually are.

With the clothes on, Jim looks years younger.

"You look ridicules." He comments dryly and as Jim hops around trying to put on some socks, "If you'd just do the laundry we wouldn't have this problem."

"Jim it's not my job to do your laundry-you're a grown man damn it."

"Whatever-"

There's a loud thud, Leonard sits more upright, glancing over at Jim. The kid has tripped over the length of the pants and there's a light giggle on his face.

"Damn it man."

"Well, at least we know who's taller now." Jim confirms with a childish grin, getting up and brushing off the dirt, "That was never a question of debate. I've always been a few inches taller than you." Leonard retorts, watching as Jim finds some boots.

"Hey, you got gym clothes?"

"Why don't you just move in already?"

Jim laughs, "I know you're excited Bones, but I gotta wait until the semester is over to do that."

"Just take my clothes and leave idiot."

The blond makes off with a smile, stealing more of his belongings before coming back into the room, "I'm going to the cafeteria before I work out." Jim explains, stuffing things into a gym bag which looks oddly like his.

"Alright, and afterwards go back to your dorm and get all your dirty shit so we can have a laundry day. I'm tired of not having any clothes to wear." Leonard grumbles.

"Yes sir." Jim waves a mock salute before stumbling out the door; surprisingly he made it through the doorway and not into the wall, a tribble with stilts for legs would have more coordination than that blond moron.

He smiles, shaking his head to himself.

Leonard falls back asleep, until he has to rush himself out the door in five minutes to barely make it on time to his Xenobiology class with Professor Mondy. If he wasn't already stressed out about finals, well he definitely is now. For their first semester final they have to pick an alien organism, compile an analysis paper as well as a class presentation to be ready to show to the class.

He just wants to bang his head against a desk. Maybe he could do it on a tribble. Talk about how damn useless they are.

His journey back to the dorm is slow, he can feel the headache approaching, probably because he hasn't eaten or drank anything today.

What he's met with is a huddled form of Jim, hugging a large gym bag with laundry falling out. He forgot he locked the door when he left, leaving Jim stuck out in the hallway. Leonard sighs, nudging Jim's leg with his foot.

"Huh?" The blond blinks a few times, staring up at him blearily.

"You awake?" He prompts, pulling out his ID card to unlock the door.

Jim gets up, holding his belongs close, "Uh-huh."

Leonard drops off his stuff before letting Jim lead the way to the student lounge house, complete with a laundry room. He's only just started the washing cycle when he sees Jim asleep, sitting down and leaning against the dryer.

He scowls. How could the blond be this damn tired?

In Jim's defense, the kid did have his super early hand to hand combat training course and who knows how much Jim Kirk actually sleeps. He almost kicks the kid's leg, but instead he sits beside him, sighing heavily and folding his hands in his lap.

Jim then slumps onto him, whether by pure unknowingness or fake drowsiness, Leonard will never know. There's a moment of him preparing to shove the kid off because damn, the blond drools like there's no tomorrow, but a small contented sigh escapes Jim's lips and Leonard suddenly can't bring himself to push the kid away.

Instead, they sit there until the washer beeps loudly and Jim startles awake, and if there's a slight blush to his cheeks Leonard doesn't care.

They eat lunch at Leonard's dorm, Chinese takeout on the floor with Jim scrubbing the alcohol out of his carpet until he has to go to his linguistics class, muttering something about talking himself into Uhura's panties and Leonard can only scoff because if there's one woman on this campus Jim Kirk can't charm his way into its Cadet Uhura. Nonetheless Jim will try.

Once the kid is gone, the room falls silent and Leonard starts his Prime Directive project, since he does still have the kid's stack of books he checked out from the library piled up.

He gets further than he thought possible, and by the time Jim returns it's well past five, hitting close to six.

"Hey it's Friday." Jim announces as he comes through the door, Leonard doesn't bother glancing up from the several books he has open, "Tell me something I don't know."

"I still chew my nails."

"Jim, my statement was rhetorical-also you should probably stop its not healthy."

The blond shrugs, dumping his things on the table before plopping into the other chair. Leonard can't help but smile at the red uniform, forgetting just how much smaller Jim is than him.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out and get a drink."

He almost slams his head into the surface of the table. Almost.

"Not tonight."

"Bones!" Jim whines throwing his head back dramatically into the chair, "C'mon it's Friday night!"

He snorts, "Yeah well I'm only halfway through this project, lemme do this so tomorrow we can go out."

"Wait-what how?" Jim scrambles from the chair, peering over his shoulder at his typed up work, "Do we have to do a presentation or just send him our project?"

"I think we have to do a presentation." Leonard replies, fixing a few typos.

"Is this for Jones' class?"

Leonard nods.

"Ugh." Is all Jim manages to huff out, falling back into the chair with abundant disgust, slouched with his arms crossed.

"If you're going to be all moody go somewhere else." He waves the kid off and Jim doesn't say anything just heads straight for the door, "Wait, where are you going?" He looks over his shoulder and Jim stares at him quite confused, "Leaving like you said?"

"No I meant like a different room, like take a nap on the couch or something."

"Oh…well actually I'm going to study. Professor Rand has it out for me." Jim snatches the astrophysics textbook from pile now dubbed as 'Jim's shit' that sits behind the couch, because apparently the kid can't just leave his things in the spare bedroom.

Leonard just sighs and dives back into the project, finishing his research paper and quickly throwing together a presentation about the paper. If he's honest, it's a bunch of horseshit thrown together tied in with a few fancy vocabulary words to make himself sound smarter. Of course Professor Jones can easily tell when students are throwing shit his way, but hey it doesn't hurt to try.

When he's saved everything and has shut down his PADD to recharge, it's almost three in the morning, the dorm lights dim.

He rubs at the tension in his neck; he's definitely going to regret being hunched over the table tomorrow morning.

Stretching, he makes his way over to the couch; Jim's wiped out cold, the textbook still clutched loosely in his limp fingers. The blond is slumped over onto the arm of the couch, legs crossed beneath his body.

With a smile smirking up his lips, Leonard gently eases the book from the kid's hands, finding the Chinese takeout receipt on the floor to use as a bookmark. He then proceeds to tug Jim's legs out straight, slowly guiding him into a more comfortable position before tossing a blanket over the blond cadet.

Now that Jim's settled, Leonard takes care of his personal needs and cleans his teeth while simultaneously changing into a t-shirt and clean pair of boxers, because damn he's so tired he could fall asleep standing. He only checks up on Jim once more before hopping into bed and snuggling down into those warm sheets.

He's in a deep sleep until…

"Hey Bones…"

Suddenly he feels the gaze upon him, like a parent having their child stare at them during sleep. He turns, frowning to see Jim standing a foot away from the door, hesitation screaming in his blue eyes.

Leonard sits up groggily, rubbing his face and eyes to see better. Jim's looking down, nervously wringing his hands together.

He's about to open his month to reply when flashes of light flicker through the bedroom window followed by the thunder hitting right above then. Leonard's never seen Jim jump so high in his goddamn life. He almost laughs; Jim was like a frightened cat.

But oh, oh no.

He's only seen one panic attack from Jim, and even that wasn't too bad, but the kid now doesn't even seem to breathe as he clings onto the door, the closest thing to anchor him. If he doesn't do something now Leonard will definitely see a second one.

"Jim, hey Jim." Leonard soothes, climbing out of bed and to the blond's side, "It's just a storm kid, nothing more."

Jim's nodding shakily.

"You wanna sit down?"

More nodding.

Leonard smiles kindly, "Alright, c'mon then."

He pulls Jim out of the room and to the couch by the sleeve of his reds (literally his reds since Jim is still wearing his uniform), and picking up the blanket Jim presumably discarded on the floor.

"You should change out of those."

As Leonard smoothes the couch cushions Jim's takes off the jacket, boots, socks, and drops his pants, leaving both of them in shirts and boxers.

He lets Jim wrap up in the blanket and he grabs one for himself, getting comfy on the couch beside Jim. They don't say anything, Jim doesn't lean against him or edge closer for any warmth, he sits there rigidly, flinching with every flash of light and pound of thunder. Leonard doesn't dare get closer; just close enough so their legs and shoulders brush with each breath.

His eyes fall onto Jim's hands, watching them shake as they pick at the edge of the blanket.

Leonard falls asleep with Jim beside him, but he wakes up alone, laying across the couch with a pillow beneath his head and a blanket about his body.

"-cking hell! Bones-oh holy shit! Bones!"

He snaps upright, looking around frantically.

"Son of a…I forgot Bones you gotta go to medical today, it's almost eight."

He springs up quickly rushing into his room to find his scrubs.

"Damn, that means no drinking today."

Leonard dresses quickly, finally noticing Jim, sitting down at the table nursing a cup of black coffee.

He snatches his ID and PADD and points a figure at Jim, "Therapist Jim. Don't forget."

Jim grunts at him.

He has so many questions for Jim about last night, but instead he gives the kid one last look before heading out the door, barely slinging a jacket over his shoulder as the door slides shut behind him.

 **Author's Note: Better late than never right? Sorry this is extremely late-but goodness I've never been this busy before in my life, I barely have time to sleep anymore haha. Other than that, I'm just glad I can spit out another chapter for you guys to read, you guys deserve it for all your patience. Anyways, thanks for sticking around and supporting me and this story, it means a lot to me-of course more is to come, but no promises when-just know I try to get these chapters out in a timely fashion. Also, if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know; right now this is all free-flow writing, no major plot developments, just simple character development. Thanks guys! Live Long and Prosper.**


	33. Chapter 33

**"It hurts me so much when something is bothering you. It breaks my heart when I see you cry. It's like it takes a piece of my life away with it. It kills me so much when you're silent and you give me that look that something is wrong, but you tell me everything is okay. The only thing I want is to carry all your pain so you can be stress free. I want to make you smile because ever since you entered my life, you are the most important person in my life and I don't want to lose you ever. The only thing I ask from you is please, please don't push me away…"**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 33**

 **(Warning Adult Content)**

Saturday, November 17th.

He stomps out of Doctor Lekberg's office, the clock finally hitting ten thirty meaning his hour session is over. His eyes are set firmly onto the ground when he runs straight into somebody, causing that person to drop just about everything in their arms.

Typical.

"Sorry-sorry." He apologizes, not looking up until he sees pearly white legs before his vision.

Jim blinks, but damn the muscle tone in her caves is sharp yet smooth and he can't help but let his gaze wander up. His eyes travel her legs following to where her skirt meets her thick thighs and up her slender waist, with sturdy hips. He licks his lips and dares a glance up at the nurse's face-and god, its Nurse Chapel, lips bright red, eyes baby blue, and jaw line fine as hell. Her hair is tied back into a messy bun, some stands falling past her ears. And god she's never looked so attractive.

Jim clears his throat, "Sorry Nurse Chapel, I should've been paying attention."

Nurse Chapel offers him a soft smile that serves to accentuate her soft features, "It's alright, it was just an accident."

He hands her the files, standing up, "Nope, I don't think so."

Chapel frowns, her brows furrowing together, "What?"

"I don't think it's an accident that we ran into each other, sign from the God Almighty." Jim smiles his charming smile and damn she matches it with one of her own.

"What type of sign?" She implores, her tone teasing yet passive.

His grin widens enough to expose gleaming white teeth, "That I should ask you out of course."

They stand there for a moment and Jim thinks he's lost her, and maybe he did.

"Nice try Cadet Kirk, I'm sorry but if you're going to want to ask me out, why don't you just do it, not God?"

Chapel walks away with a sway in her hips and Jim lets himself stare after her, feeling something hot coil within his stomach.

She isn't lost to him. She may be the one that got away-but only got away briefly because they're in a fish bowl and there isn't much room to run away from Jim Kirk in there.

Jim makes his way back to Bones' dorm, deciding to shave away the grizzly hairs on his face. This might be the first girl to show general interest in him since Hermione, seriously he saw the way she smiled at him. Jim had flirted his way beside Uhura in Xenolinguistics yesterday, but he only got so far until she threatened to bite his tongue off if he kissed her, because hot damn, if he gets into her panties game over, victory points for him. But, deep down he knows that will never happen, not with her.

Disappointing since Cadet Uhura is most definitely one of the hottest women on campus, though he supposes that has something to do with the fact she's unattainable.

He washes face, only noticing one or two razor cuts, nothing too bad. Drying up he avoids looking in the mirror for long, he's always hated gazing into it, seeing his one blue eyes staring back at him. Eyes that have heavy bags, eyes that have seen far too much, eyes that have cried too often. Beneath those eyes would be a slightly crooked nose from the countless beatings and lips that have marks from being abused.

Though here's a positive, he's finally wearing his own clothes, Bones would be proud of him for that at the very least.

Jim makes the mistake of looking at himself for a moment, noticing the shagging hair almost reaching his eyes. He needs a damn haircut is what he needs-especially Bones. The southerner's hair is getting out of control; Bones is constantly brushing hair out of his face.

Sighing, he parts his hair to the right, letting it messily fall that way, some hairs still lying right above his eye.

Then something starts beeping, making Jim startle slightly. Wanting to rip the hair from his own skull, Jim walks out, snatching his PADD to see the message sent to it. It's an outside message, not from anyone within Starfleet.

Jim checks the name.

Gary Mitchell.

Jim pauses.

Like the Gary Mitchell?

Jim and Gary knew each other outside of Starfleet, meeting back in twenty-two fifty. He was just seventeen then. Just a kid.

With new curiosity he opens the message.

 _Meet at little shamrock_

Jim smirks, typical Gary. It's not even a question, just a flat out statement.

 _Right now?_

He replies.

 _Yup I've been hearing shit about you_

Jim laughs, shaking his head.

 _Be right there_

He changes into some civilians clothes and calls a cab to meet outside Starfleet Academy grounds. There's no way in hell he's walking. He makes sure to bring his wallet and ID, shoving them both into his pants' pocket.

Jim gets to the bar within the next twenty minutes. San Francisco looking ever so dirty in broad daylight. No wonder people go there at night. The streets have people walking to and fro bundled up in jackets, scarves, and hats.

He pays the cabdriver before leaving, sliding out smoothly and entering the rustic bar. The warming smell of alcohol reaching his nostrils and bringing his mind to static.

"Bloody bastard. It really is you!"

Jim's met with a hand on his shoulder, being thrust around to face Gary Mitchell.

"Gary!"

"Jim!"

They give each other a quick hug, but quickly realizing that was the wrong move-they both pull away sheepishly.

"How've you been?" Gary smiles, his brown hair buzzed short and his brown eyes still gleaming like ever before.

Jim manages a smile, "Good, and you?"

"Oh cut the shit Kirk, don't give me any that bullshit-I don't know who've you been hanging around lately but you can't lie to me."

Gary slings an arm around his shoulders, pulling him to the counter for a drink.

"Look Gary, it's nice to see you and all, but what are we doing here?" Jim ignores Gary's statement, cutting to the chase.

The brunette grins, not meeting his gaze for a moment, "I heard that you joined Starfleet and I said 'no way in hell my Jimmy would join a bunch of fat-ass losers like them' but maybe I was wrong."

"How'd you contact me on my PADD, that's software protected-"

"How long have you known me?"

Jim cracks a smile, "Awhile now Gary."

"You know that I'm tech savvy so don't bother."

They share a laugh, settling down on the stools beside each other.

"So, why'd you do it?" Gary prompts, signaling the bartender to grab them a round of drinks, "Whiskey?" Jim nods his confirmation, "Whiskey please."

Jim straightens a tad, thinking about the question, "I dunno Gary, I just…well Captain Pike dared me."

"That bastard? C'mon Jim thought you were never gonna join? Didn't wanna follow in the steps of your old man."

The bartender slides them the drinks.

Jim drinks his too quickly.

"I just don't know Gary, I guess it seemed appealing, to have something stable and constant in my life."

Gary shrugs at the answer, unsatisfied, "Stable and constant?" He scoffs, "You're a real fine piece of shit Jim Kirk, ya'know that?"

Jim offers a weak smile.

"When have you ever wanted something stable? You're sounding old Jim."

"I'm getting old Gary." Jim replies matter-of-factly.

The brunette hums, debating, "Fine, you're an old piece of shit-thought we were gonna stay single and free Jimmy."

"Gary we were just kids when we said that. Things change-we change." Jim responds, looking down at the whiskey in his glass, "It's probably for the better anyways."

Gary huffs, crossing his arms for a moment, "Well how about just for tonight we take it back to old times."

Uh-oh.

"Let's get out there and have some fun, just like we did before!" Gary slaps him on the back, making him almost choke on the whiskey.

He swallows, clearing his throat, "Gary I don't know. I'm supposed to meet up with a friend later."

"Friend? What friend?" Gary frowns, "I'm the only friend you need goddamn it. Now c'mon lets go, finish up you dipshit."

Gary gets up with a smile, ruffling his hair as Jim gulps the last bit down, burning his throat in the process.

"Where are we going?" He asks, watching Gary quickly pay the bartender before scurrying off.

"I know a place."

Oh-no.

Jim isn't the least bit surprised when he finds himself in a strip club, watching girls with long skinny tails dance on a pole. Appealing as the sight is, Jim isn't sure if he's even interested in something like that today-but Gary has other plans.

Gary pays for the next round of drinks and forces Jim to get a blowjob, which he does end up enjoying, even if the girl's tail wraps around his neck uncomfortably. Now he's definitely turned on, and Gary knows it.

He and Gary are talking when two of the girls come up, mentioning something about a backroom behind the stage and before they know it they're being led away by the hand to separate rooms.

Jim's heart is picking up speed with each passing minute. He takes off his clothes the second he has the door shut, the girl springing onto the bed with enthusiasm and he's on top of her the next moment. Their kisses are animalistic passion and Jim feels the need rush down his body.

He helps her strip of the little clothing she already has on, quickly proceeding to grind their hips together. She clings on to him, her tongue sliding across his neck then reaching for his mouth. Their movements begin to pick up speed, the girl spreading her legs further apart so he can thrust deeper.

Not too long after she's moaning his name until it turns into a shout and Jim follows soon after, lying beside her panting, sweat glistening on both of their naked bodies.

Jim lies on his stomach, face down in the pillow, feeling her kiss up his spine. She reaches over him and bites his ear. Suddenly he goes rigid, instantly rolling over to pin the girl on the bed, his heart hammering in his chest violently.

Hermione always bit his ear.

She stares at him wide-eyed for a moment, before she falls back into the roll, bucking her hips to reach his. But Jim's uninterested, his body losing any desire he had before.

He gets up, his hands shaking slightly.

"Did I do something wrong?" The girl asks, sitting behind him as he sits at the edge, planting his feet on the ground, "No-no-no. Sorry it's not you. I just…"

"It's alright baby, whatever it is let me take care of it."

Her arms wrap around his neck, and she begins to kiss him all over his body, gentle and soft.

"No, just please don't." Jim unwraps her arms, standing to gather his clothes.

Once cleaned up and dressed he tips her and leaves, slinging his jacket over his shoulder and heading to the room across the hall, where Gary should be. His hands are still shaking and there's a fluttering feeling in his stomach, but he ignores it as he knocks on the door, waiting for an answer.

Unsurprisingly, none comes, so Jim heads out, gazing through the club for his friend. Instead he finds a nice cozy bar at the corner to simply drink at, disregarding the annoying buzzing music in the background.

Jim's at his third glass of whiskey when Gary stumbles into the scene, straightening his coat.

"Jimmy! Feelin' better after some hot sex?"

Jim cringes as he's slapped on the back.

"Yeah, feel a hell-of-a lot better."

"Look Jim, what's going on? Is it me? Is it Starfleet? C'mon talk to me." Gary pushes, sitting beside him at the table.

He shrugs, putting the itch on the side of his head to rest, "It's just, its fine, don't worry about."

Gary purses his lips, "Look asshole, I didn't travel across the states for you to tell me jack shit. C'mon spill the beans."

Jim laughs half-heartedly, "Gary, I'm just been through a lot of shit."

"What type of shit are we talkin' about here?"

He bites his lip, "Like I've been put in therapy and had a terrible drug addiction a couple weeks ago shit."

"Holy shit!" Gary smacks his shoulder, "My god Jimmy, they've got you in therapy!"

"Oh I see, you think therapy is funny-not the fact I had a drug addiction." He grumbles as Gary laughs loudly.

"What was that now?"

"Nothing Gary." He smiles, and then drinks the rest of the glass before setting it down with a satisfying clink.

"Man Jimmy, you must've been going through hell to be put back into therapy-ya'know after the whole Tarsus thing."

Jim winces; Gary Mitchell isn't one for sensitivity, one of his character flaws.

"Ya'know, can you say that a bit louder for the people in the back Gary?" He mutters sarcastically and Gary sighs, "Look Jim, relax, live a little. If you want, I know a great steakhouse not too far from here. Get some food in your belly."

Jim smiles weakly, "That sounds good."

"Alright, let's go."

After paying, Jim and Gary had out, hustling through the San Francisco sidewalks, to the steakhouse which Gary said was close, but takes them more than ten minutes to walk there.

"Here we are." Gary pushes open the doors, revealing the old styled restaurant. Inside are wooden floors, leather benches, and aromas smelling heavily of seasoned meat on a grill.

Jim's mouth begins to water and he can suddenly feel the hunger in his stomach.

Soon enough, they're being served food and Jim feels hunger he hasn't felt in a long time.

"So, do you like Starfleet?" Gary prompts after taking a few bites of his steak, Jim glances up from cutting the meat, "Ehh, there's pros and cons to everything, Starfleet is no exception."

"Okay, cons."

Jim hums, "Well, firstly there's this asshole named Jake Finnegan."

"Hmm, what's he like?"

"He likes to beat me up."

Gary smiles, "Is my little Jimmy being picked on in school?"

Jim rolls his eyes, "There's also Professor Rand who'd like to have my head on silver platter so she can throw it into a furnace to watch it burn."

"What'd you do to piss her off?"

He manages a small smile, "I'm not sure, but it might have something to do with the fact I dated her daughter-and probably that my last name is Kirk."

Gary nods, "Can't believe you dated the teacher's daughter! That's a no-go Jimmy."

Jim nods knowingly, "I know-I know. Anyways, I like the place nonetheless, made some good friends so far."

The brunette pauses, setting his fork down, "To be honest Jim, I lost my job recently and right now I'm just trying to make a living."

"Gary what happened?"

"It's a long story-I slept with the manager's daughter-"

Jim chuckles, of course he did.

"-but I'm looking for any options and when I heard from Sam that you joined Starfleet, well you can't blame me for being curious."

Jim ducks his head at the mention of Sam's name. Sam is his older brother, he ran away right before Jim got sent to Tarsus IV. Of course it's only like Gary Mitchell for the man to stay in contact with Sam, since getting contact with Jim Kirk is near impossible; reaching Sam Kirk is way easier in comparison.

"How'd he know I joined Starfleet?" He asks, moving his left over meat around the plate, "I don't know, I hit him up a couple months ago after you dropped off the face of the earth."

"Sounds about right."

They mindlessly chat the next two hours, even if it's about news or just recalling old times, they don't care. Jim's just glad he got an old friend back, one he thought he'd never see again. Gary and Jim part ways after finishing up their meal at the steakhouse, Gary heading back home to the motel he's currently staying at, and Jim back to Starfleet Academy.

He feels somewhat happier the way home.

Bones beats him back to the dorm, the time being around five in the afternoon. The southerner's shift got off at two.

Jim finds the door unlocked, so he easily lets himself in.

"There you are." Bones' sigh comes from the kitchen table.

He heads over, grinning softly, "Yeah I went out for a little bit."

Bones glances over his shoulder to squint at him, "By yourself?"

Jim peels off his jacket, lying over the back of the couch, "Uh no, I uh met up with someone."

"You're one for being vague Jim." Bones comments dryly, he's bent over at the table, skimming through what looks like his medical textbook.

"Just an old friend." He smiles lightly, taking a seat across from him, "How was your shift?"

"Painful as hell, that damn flu bug is still going around-if people would just get the damn flu shot when we offer it, this wouldn't happen." The southerner grumbles, flipping the page dramatically, "Says the person who just had the stomach flu." Jim laughs and Bones gives him a glare.

"You hungry much? I was thinking we could go out in a few hours, snag a drink."

"Yeah, sure." He nods, licking his dry lips.

Suddenly the room becomes tense and if he has to goddamn explain last night he's certainly going to have a panic attack. He can see the curiosity in Bones' eyes, gleaming within those rich orbs of earth. The southerner's mouth is parted, as if to speak the unspoken words, but Jim pleads him with his eyes.

He can't handle that conversation, not now, maybe not ever.

If he has this conversation he'll have to explain Tarsus IV. Tarsus had some bad lightning storms during the time he spent there. But the thing with lightning storms is that they sound like gunshots, the old styled black powder with metal bullets. With every lightning strike all he can see is the barrel of black soulless gun, pointed at the crowd of innocent people, men, women and children alike, sentenced to death by Kodos' hand. The terrible thing about it is that after Kodos gained control, whenever a lightning storm happened while he was hiding with his kids, he could never tell if one of his kids got shot, or it was just another lightning bolt hitting the planet's surface. And how the hell does he explain that to Bones?

Jim coughs, his head ducking into his elbow and he can see from the corner of his eye that Bones is shaking his head, as if to clear his head and possibly some of the tension.

"What are you hungry for?" Bones asks instead, sliding off the chair to stand hands on hips in front of him.

He can feel the question bearing down, so he doesn't look up, doesn't meet Bones' gaze, "Oh I dunno, whatever sounds good."

Bones is tapping his foot, itching his beard by the sound of it.

"Damn it Jim."

Jim looks up, seeing the slight redness in Bones' cheeks, maybe out of embarrassment or anger.

"What happened last night? You scared the shit out of me-I've been thinking about it all day." The southerner explains, his eyes never leaving Jim's face.

Jim shrugs, shuffling his feet like a little kid.

"Well?" Bones implores.

He swallows, shrugging, "Just a bad dream."

"Jim you aren't five and I'm not stupid."

"Like I said, just a bad dream Bones."

The southerner's sigh whistles in the silent room, "Can you at least look at me?"

Jim slowly peels his eyes off of the floor, glancing up from beneath his eyelashes, seeing Bones' caring eyes gazing directly at him. It makes his heart pound and hurt in his chest. How can the southerner care so much? He's a worthless piece of shit, yet here Bones is, loving and caring as always-damn it.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"It's nothing to worry about Bones." He takes a step away, he notices all the signs of his defensive barriers coming up, but he can't do anything to stop them, it's all habit now.

Bones approaches, "C'mon Jim, we've been through hell together. I've patched you up after multiple beatings; I've been with you while you were drunk, bullied, crying, helpless, and sick. You've drank my alcohol, thrown up in my toilet, and bled on my carpet! I've helped you through sleepless nights and a drug addiction. Our friendship has gone from nonexistent to blooming, and you still don't trust me?"

Jim shakes his head, "I trust you Bones." He begins to nod, his chest heaving shakily as Bones continues towards him and he finds himself pressed against the couch.

"Then what is it?"

His heart skips a beat; he feels the heat rush to his face making the situation even more embarrassing.

Bones sighs, "Will you just promise me this Jim?"

He looks up.

"Promise me you'll tell me when you're ready?"

He nods, hurriedly so.

Bones smiles, "Okay, okay then."

The southerner rubs his face with his hands, groaning as he does so.

Jim releases his shaky breath, regretting it immediately for it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart then and there. With new desperation he sinks to the floor, bringing his head down into his hands to pull at his hair, willing his breathing to calm down.

The f-word slips from his lips in trembling gasps of breath.

He barely hears Bones coming beside him, he doesn't feel the southerner's hands grabbing him, or his best friend's voice echoing in his ears.

It's like the world has become muted in blackness, all he can sense is his heavy breathing, ragged and loud in his eardrums. He can feel his chest heaving and hear his ribs creaking from his expanding lungs.

Vibrations from his shivering limbs rattle his bones so he condenses into a tighter ball, anchored there against the back of the couch.

Suddenly, he feels another heartbeat. It's not his-no, this one is calm, beating strongly through the palm of his hand. The warmth of that beating heart spreads up his shaking arm, reaching his own chest.

 _"Breathe."_

The word echoes in his mind. He clings onto it, hoping to bring himself out of whatever panic attack decided to explode from his chest.

He opens his eyes, taking in everything at once.

He's huddled into himself, his left arm extended with the help of Bones' hand, gripping his wrist to press his hand to the southerner's chest. Bones' lips are moving, telling him to breathe no doubt. Jim's other hand is holding onto Bones' hand, clenched in a death grip.

"Hey, that's it kid."

His teeth are chattering, making his jaw ache. His eyes are watering, but they don't spill over.

"Look at me kid."

With obedience he glances up, meeting Bones' gaze and he realizes that's all he needed.

The next thing Bones says takes him off guard. Because shit, how is he supposed to answer it. How does he explain that his father died leaving him with an anguished mother who sent him to an abusive uncle with an older brother who abandoned him causing him to be sent to a planet that got ruined with genocide scaring him for life.

How the hell does he explain that?

"Oh hell kid, who did this to you?"

Bones…please no.

 **Author's Note: Hey guys! I know I haven't really been consistent on updating this story-let alone my other ones. Just know I'm trying my best here. I have a lot going on right now and I'm thankful for your patience and understanding. I'm hoping things will calm down soon and I can start jamming out here and post all the chapters you guys deserve (because you guys are just amazing). Anyways I hope you've enjoyed it so far and continue to stick around for more. Like I said once before, I'm not sure how long this story is going to take, I'm not even halfway through the first year of the Academy and I have three years to write up sooo. Thanks again guys-and sorry for not getting back on all your guys' comments just know I try but sometimes I act like a normal person and forget things so I apologize for that. So I guess I'll end on this note, I'm not really sure where this story is going so don't bother asking haha. Live Long and Prosper.**


	34. Chapter 34

**"Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright but it's never enough. Because my echo is the only voice coming back."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 34**

"Hey, that's it kid."

He looks like on the verge of not just breaking, but simply falling apart into pieces that he just can't collect. The kid's face has paled, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. His whole body is shaking, his hands quivering within his own. The world is melting away in irrelevance, because the damn kid is fading away, cracks forming in his soul.

Broken.

"Look at me kid."

The galaxy-no, the universe-swirls within those orbs, so bright, so young, so adventurous. All hope lingers within his eyes, zealous and carefree-yet haunted and afraid. The power of the ocean is within those depths, but also hidden in them is the mysteries and dangers of it.

"Oh hell kid, who did this to you?"

It's damn rhetorical, there's no way just one person destroyed James Kirk. It wasn't Jake Finnegan. It wasn't Tafari Arendse. It wasn't Hermione Rand. Hell, it wasn't Leonard McCoy. Whoever broke James Kirk, it wasn't a single accidental act of pain inflicted on the kid no-no this, whatever this is, this was intentional. The person, or people, purposely did this, it was an attack. Whether it was an actual living being, or the damn universe spitting on James T. Kirk, Leonard isn't sure.

There's no explaining away the fear the kid carries in his eyes, the way he holds onto the idea that his closest friends will leave him, the way he jumps and flinches at the subtlest of touches, the way he dives head first into danger, the way he puts himself down.

Jim might be damn suicidal.

The blond starts shaking his head.

"No-no-no-no-no. You'll leave me-please just don't leave me?"

"Jim, Jim please."

"I'll be good Bones-I'll be good just please…"

"Jim, hey," He grasps the sides of Jim's face, anchoring his gaze onto his eyes, "Fuck kid, I'm never leaving you okay?"

Jim just stares. He stares with those big damn round-blue eyes. His lips are trembling, fingers fumbling as they grip Leonard's shoulders for some sort of stability.

"I'm not leaving you." He reinstates firmly, just to get it through James Tiberius Kirk's goddamn thick skull.

Silent tears drip from the kid's eyes, and his next words are spoken so softly, it's barely heard in the silent room, "They always say that."

It feels like a stab to the gut. The way the kid whispers it, so innocent, so quiet, but so broken.

The kid's eyes are searching his own, hoping-no begging to be held, to be cherished, to finally be comforted in his fears and anxieties.

Leonard presses his lips together to stop himself from releasing a sob. Instead he gets onto his knees, grabbing Jim's forearm with one hand and his other covering his own mouth. How can this kid be so broken? No matter how stupid, how careless, or how annoying the little shit is, how can someone be so heartless as to tear a piece of Jim Kirk's heart away?

"Kid, I'm not a 'they'-it's me, Leonard, it's Bones-and-and kid I know…I know I'm messed up and hell I know I can be an asshole sometimes but kid, I can't lose you…I just can't."

Jim's face is crumbling, his mouth struggling to form words, "Last time I messed up-you left." His voice cracks.

Leonard's heart pangs.

 _"…I'm sorry Jim for trying to be your friend. I hope you have fun crying yourself to sleep, because when you wake up, I won't be there."_

The blond releases a strangled sob, "I-I mess up-and people just leave-they're just gone…"

 _"Alright, let me makes this clear so it can get through your thick concussed skull. I don't want to have anything to do with the likes of you. Hell, I don't want you talking to me anymore…"_

Jim's shaking.

 _"…I'll be gone. I promise."_

The kid closes his eyes, breathing heavily, "I just don't know who to trust anymore."

 _"Just hurry up and leave. If I ever meant anything to you, you'll do as I say at the very least."_

Leonard makes for a weak smile, tears brimming in his own eyes.

 _"C'mon Bones! Twelve grams, can't you see I'm trying, why isn't that enough for you?"_

He doesn't deserve Jim Kirk.

 _"You said it yourself. Because you're not good enough."_

All he has done is caused more damage. No wonder Jim doesn't trust him.

 _"What the hell are you doing here? Jim, get the hell out of here."_

He's a terrible friend.

 _"Just leave Jim, get your drunk ass out of here."_

He personally tried to break Jim himself.

 _"Jim, did she stop?"_

 _"Bones c'mon-"_

 _"Jim!-"_

 _"Did she stop?"_

 _"No, she didn't stop."_

 _"You were raped Jim."_

 _"I gave her consent. I let her…It's what I wanted."_

 _"Is that what you tell yourself? Shit Jim, you're so screwed up! She raped you Jim…"_

Jim's right, all he does is leave. No wonder the kid needs constant reassurances. No wonder the kid struggles to trust him-even he, Leonard McCoy has betrayed the kid time and time again. How does Jim even stand to be beside him? How does the kid even have the audacity to forgive him after all of this?

 _"…Bones I'm sorry and I promise I'll be more open-I'll actually answer your questions, I'll try my best."_

Jim was just seeking approval, acceptance. To find somewhere he belongs. The kid just wants Leonard to stay, to finally be someone who doesn't abandon him.

 _"I'll be good, I promise."_

His mantra was his prayer, his one hope of pleasing someone, so they would just stay. Stay with him.

That thought finally explains the moment, the moment he and Jim officially became friends, the moment where he and Jim's lives got turned around, the moment the both had something other than a messed-up childhood or a messy divorce.

 _"Jim?"_

 _"Yeah?"_

 _"We're friends, right?"_

The most confused look had appeared on the kid's face, like as if Leonard had been speaking a different language to him.

 _"Ye-yeah. You can call it that."_

 _"What do you call it?"_

 _"Favorite human."_

He reaches out, placing his hands on either side of the kid's face, taking in the raw emotion on the blond's face, vulnerable, hurt, defeated, it's all there, in his eyes, in his expression, on his lips.

"I'm promising you kid," he thumbs Jim's tears away, "I'm not leaving this time."

Jim's eyes are shining, his lips parted in a mute plea, his fingers are clasped onto the fabric of Leonard's shirt, afraid to let go. So many questions, concerns, and anxieties flicker through the kid's eyes, but they just settle, they settle on Leonard full of boundless trust-something that Jim shouldn't be able to give let alone think Leonard deserves.

"Bones."

It's like a dying prayer on his lips. Like the name itself holds power. Jim has seemed to place the bar so high for that name, yet he still calls Leonard by it.

Leonard sniffs, "Jim."

The kid collapses into him, broken and silent. Leonard sighs; bringing his arms tightly around the kid's shaking body. He welcomes the mess that's named Jim Kirk. He feels the tension leave the blond's muscles and soon enough Jim's just sniffling and hiccupping into his chest.

Wrapping his arms ever tighter, Leonard hums, closing his eyes.

This is where they belong.

…

It's Thanksgiving day, November 22nd.

Leonard's got a pie in his hands; his dear sweet mama shipped it all the way out, so he and Jim could have a thanksgiving on the floor of his dorm. Damn, he's so grateful for this sugary pecan pie.

"Hey Jim, hungry?"

The kid looks up, he's tired, eyes fluttering shut and Leonard can see the lack of focus in them.

"Mmm, yeah. That smells so good." Jim replies, rubbing his eyes and shifting the blanket around his shoulders, a slight shiver racing up his body.

He hands the kid a fork, sits down across from him and places the pie between them.

"Let's eat up."

"We can eat the whole pie?"

The question seems odd, Leonard gazes at Jim. Jim's confused, staring at the fork than at the pie.

"Yeah, we can eat the whole damn thing." Leonard laughs gently.

Maybe the kid doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving, maybe that's why he's confused that they have a pie in their living room. Nonetheless Jim starts nodding his head, licking his lips.

"Sounds good to me."

They spend Thanksgiving on the floor, with overdue homework assignments, class final projects, and textbooks beside them. There's no turkey, no mashed potatoes, and no other people, just them and the pie. Yet it's all they need, and maybe a few beers.

…

Wednesday, November 28th.

"Jim goddamn it."

"What!"

"My floor is not your personal laundry basket."

"Well shit, my mistake then."

"Damn right."

Leonard kicks over the mass of clothes. Jim's bent over on the floor, typing madly away on his PADD. Serves the kid right, if he would just do his projects in a timely fashion like a normal person he wouldn't have to cram the whole thing in last minute, literally.

"Ya'know you've had like two weeks to get that done."

"Yeah I know-I know."

Jim's still working on the Prime Directive project. The kid barely got in his other class finals like history and warp. The kid said his astrophysics final on Monday was hell and that he doesn't know if he can handle another year with the she-devil.

"Class starts in twenty minutes."

"Screw off Bones, ye of little faith."

Leonard laughs, collecting his things for class, "It's not that I don't have faith in you per say , it's just that I also believe in the concept of time, and I believe you're running out of that."

Jim waves him off angrily, not even looking up from the glowing screen in his hands.

Lately their relationship has budded into something stronger ever since Jim had his panic attack in Leonard's dorm. Of course, they've spoken on certain matters; Jim was to work on staying more positive about himself and others and must also be more open to Leonard. In return Leonard promised to be more patient and not to push like he had before, since Jim did admit that Leonard had caused his last panic attack.

The next ten minutes pass slowly, with Leonard looking over the kid's shoulder, tapping his foot against the floor incessantly.

"Done." Jim announces triumphantly, saving his work and giving Leonard a nasty grin, "I knew you could do it." He ruffles the kid's hair despite the protests.

"Do you have your stuff?"

"I just gotta put it in my bag."

Yesterday the two of them purchased real schoolbags, not the trashy ones that Starfleet hands out in the beginning of the year. Jim had seemed very pleased with his, mentioning something about the straps, but Leonard had long since tuned him out by then.

"Alright, let's go." He walks to the door, waits a moment for Jim, and the shuts it promptly.

They embrace the world together, and when they give their Prime Directive final, Leonard claps extra louder for Jim, even after he mumbles a few words nervously and fidgets with the slide clicker. Because damn it, that's his best friend, and if he has an anxiety about speaking in front of a crowd of people, well he'll cheer for him all the same. Leonard gives his not too long after; students are given only a solid seven minutes to speak since their class is so large. Professor Jones sits at the front row, taking notes, sighing and stretching his legs during the boring parts.

Overall, he and Jim killed it.

The bell rings, Professor Jones congratulates them all, saying he'll see them next semester for the next class, the Extension Course #4077.

Jim's palms are sweaty, but he's smiling.

"Hey, you did great." He slaps him on the back on the way out because that's what friends do. Jim nods like he's heard the statement a million times over, even though they both know he's never had someone give him positive reinforcement before in his life.

"Guys that was amazing!" Chekov clambers up the steps, a bright smile on his face, making both of them feel decades older, "Hey Pav, nice speech." Jim congratulates him and the Russian boy's grin grows wider, "You really think so?"

"I know so."

The four of them meet for lunch, Sulu chats mindlessly about the astrophysics exam while Jim seems to be mentally banging his head against the desk. Chekov pipes up every now and again, mentioning all his mechanical tests that are coming up in the next few days. Then they all agree finals week (or weeks) are living hell, especially when they have multiple in one day.

Everything seems normal, they're all happy; they all have smiles on their faces.

Jim follows him back to his dorm like a lost puppy. It's then he sees the heavy bags beneath his eyes, the hair that falls flat against his forehead.

"You okay?" Leonard nudges his shoulder as he unlocks the door with his ID card.

Jim shrugs, "I just…."

He trails off, biting his lower lip, eyeing the floor.

"It's finals week talking kid." Leonard fills in for him and Jim smiles lightly, "Yeah, yeah you're right."

They study for their next finals. For Leonard its Klingon Physiology, and for Jim its Xenobiology.

The kid leaves shortly before six, mentioning something about a meeting and books before scrambling off. Leonard just sighs rubbing his temples. Jim seems slightly embarrassed about his Book Club, but on the other hand he seems rather proud of it. Either way, he certainly doesn't want Leonard to consider it.

When the blond gets back later that night, they come together to study for their Forensic Psychology test.

Jim falls asleep on the couch with Leonard reading the textbook to him, just a few important notes that they must know for the test. He's not surprised or offended at the fact the blond has fallen asleep. The kid had been nodding off for the past hour or so.

With a sigh Leonard gets up, setting the materials on the ground and snatching a blanket for Jim.

He eases Jim down, making sure to place a pillow beneath his head and to drape the blanket lightly over his friend, so the blond can toss and turn without tangling.

Leonard gets ready for bed himself, taking a quick shower. Jim has only shifted tighter around himself by the time Leonard gets out, other than that the blond appears fine.

He sleeps through the night, his alarm going off at six am. Leonard allows himself to hit snooze only twice before forcing himself to get up with a yawn on his lips. Silently he gets ready, trying not to make too much noise since Jim's sound asleep on the couch, murmuring in his sleep.

Leonard's straightening his red uniform when Jim's eyes flicker open, gazing directly at him.

"It's only six-forty kid. Go back to sleep." He tells him, drawing the blanket back up. The kid just nods his head in acknowledgement and shifts to face the couch, a sigh falling from his mouth.

He replicates a quick orange, cursing himself for even using the food synthesizer-but damn it's convenient, then heads out the door with his belongings in his school bag.

Leonard's not quite sure why he hadn't thought about too hard before. Jim Kirk has been staying-and sleeping at his dorm for the past few weeks now, yet it didn't occur to him that fellow peers would begin to talk about it. It's only now that he hates reputations. Before he didn't really care who gossiped about him, he just didn't. Then hanging out with Jim got a lot of attention-hell a lot of people stopped talking to him because of it, but he didn't care because it was Jim. And there it is, it was Jim. Jim Kirk has quite the reputation for sleeping around-of course Leonard didn't care until he did, because people are saying that he and Jim are sleeping together.

Hell no.

People are saying he and Jim are having sex together?

Screw him now.

Leonard can only groan as he hears the whispers around class, some louder than others. It's not hard to put two and two together, students whispering and side glancing at him, as if it weren't obvious enough.

Despite all of it, Leonard puts it aside and mentally prepares himself for class. Just two more damn days and he's done. They'll be kicking back in winter break and he can take the first shuttle out of this hellhole to go see his mama.

Class starts, Leonard breathes a sigh, tapping the desk and watching as the class PADDs are distributed throughout.

It's only Klingon Physiology, can't be that hard right?

He feels quite confident, the studying last night certainly helped for sure.

It's almost nine am when he heads back to his dorm. He opens the door and runs straight into the blond.

"Damn it Jim." He curses, stumbling and helping Jim back onto his feet, "Sorry-I'm late." The kid breathes, brushing the dirt from Leonard's shoulder before dashing around him, "I'll see ya at psych!" Jim yells tumbling down the stairs.

He can only shake his head and go inside, dumping his belongings into his room before deciding on a quick cramming before his next test. Leonard can only hope the kid is prepared for it. Professor Nichols did warn them that the test won't be easy. Over half of the final is writing free response essays. Sounds like hell.

Leonard goes to his psychology class promptly after his quick studying and much needed nap on the couch with minutes to spare. He waits by the door knowing fully well Jim will come sprinting soon enough. The kid literally has a two-minute window, from his nine am class to his eleven am class. Jim's damn crazy.

Sure enough, with only twenty seconds to spare Jim's racing through the crowd, face flushed a shade of pink from his breathlessness.

"Surprised?" Jim greets him and Leonard laughs, "Just a tad. C'mon, Nichols will have your ass if you're late."

The blond grins and nods knowingly, falling close behind as Leonard selects their normal seating.

"Nervous?" Jim asks as him, Leonard shrugs, "Nahh, you?"

He glances down, watching at the kid wrings his hands out in his normal anxious manner.

"Born ready."

Leonard shakes his head and mentally breathes a sigh, clearing his mind for the test. A lot of students have complained about this one, but really, how hard can it be?

Give him an hour and thirty minutes later and he'll change his mind on the matter.

They're packing up, Professor Nichols wishing them a fantastic winter break.

Jim's staring absentminded at the table.

Leonard's blinking hard, his mind wrapping around all the questions that have just been thrown at him.

"I'm so done." Jim announces with a chuckle.

"I'm hungry." Leonard replies, getting up and edging into the crowd of students making their way out.

Jim follows close behind him, nearly bumping into him several times by the time they reach the door. Suddenly Jim groans and Leonard glances over his shoulder, it's Francis, pushing through to catch up with them.

"Hey Jim!" Francis clambers up beside them.

Leonard sees the slight frown on his friend's face and watches him lick his lips.

"Hey." Jim mutters.

Francis grins, "When are you moving back in? We're having dorm checks tomorrow and it'd be quite odd if my roommate was just gone."

Leonard notes the hesitation on Jim's lips, the blond makes a little glance at him before back at Francis, "Oh yeah, I'll move back in today."

"Good, I don't think the Administration would be happy if they found out."

The blond just shrugs.

"How'd you do on the test?" Francis implores more openly, walking right beside them as they leave Professor Nichols' classroom for the last time this semester.

"Ehh, it was okay." Jim replies.

"Yeah, I think I did okay actually." Leonard chips in and Francis nods, "Yeah I think I did fairly well on certain parts, particularly the free response questions I felt good about."

They head to lunch together, though they part ways since Francis always sits with Arendse and sometimes Finnegan depending on the mood.

Leonard and Jim find Sulu and Chekov getting comfy at their table, waving them over happily.

"Hey guys!" Sulu smiles.

"Hey, how's it going?" Leonard greets, taking a seat opposite of him and he feels Jim sit almost right up next him, their shoulders brushing as he does so.

"It's great! I am so excited for winter break!" The Russian boy cheers digging into his soup.

Leonard laughs, "So am I. What's your guys' plans?"

"I'm going back to my family. To see Suki and Aiko-and of course my parents." Sulu explains.

"Oh, that's nice, where are they staying?" Leonard asks and Sulu smirks, "Well they've recently moved back to San Francisco-they came from Ganjitsu, but after the attack they wanted to move back to Earth."

"Makes sense." Jim says around a mouthful of apple.

"What about you Pavel?"

"I'm heading back to Russia to visit my grandmother." The redhead informs them joyfully, slurping on his soup.

"What about you Leonard, any crazy plans?" Sulu says, glancing up from his plate of food, "Oh uh, I'm heading back to Georgia, to go visit my mama and maybe see Joanna if the ex-wife lets me."

"I hope you get to see her Leonard." Pavel says, and Leonard nods his thanks.

"Now Jim, you gotta have something awesome planned for break?"

Jim glances up from his green apple, looking at Sulu with a shrug, "Nahh not really. Just heading back to my hometown."

"Oh, to go see family?" Chekov exclaims, Jim nods, "Something like that."

Their lunch ends promptly after a half hour.

Leonard drags Jim back to his dorm, the blond still following a step behind. Odd since the kid usually always leads the way in stride.

"Something wrong kid?" Leonard opens the door, ushering him inside, Jim just sighs heading for the couch, "You going to talk to me?"

Still no answer.

Leonard places his things on the kitchen table, patting down his pockets thoroughly.

He comes around the couch, sitting beside the kid, rubbing his stiff shoulder into relaxation, "Are you really going back to Iowa?"

Jim shakes his head, "Back to Riverside? Hell no."

"Well, what are you going to do? You can't just stay here."

"Why not?"

Leonard breathes deeply, "Because kid, no one's going to be here for the whole month of December."

"I've been alone before." Jim says dryly, Leonard removes his hand, clasping both of them in his lap, "Why don't you come to Georgia with me? I'll pay for the shuttle ride and everything, my mama won't mind at all."

"No, it's fine. I think I'm going to go visit my brother I just have to call him up."

"You sure?" Leonard questions, gazing at Jim, at his downcast eyes.

"Yeah, I'm certain."

Yet his eyes gleam with uncertainty, making Leonard's heart twist. He silently vows to check in with Jim during winter break because it's not like Jim talks about his family as a happy topic.

"Okay, Jim."

 **Author's Note: Hey guys! I hope all of you had a fantastic thanksgiving this week and ate plenty of food, I know I did. Also, I did add a little thanksgiving snippet in this chapter for all of you to enjoy. Anyways, like always, I hope you've enjoyed the chapter and will stick around for more. I do apologize for not answering reviews I've been busy-actually this whole year I've been busy and sometimes I miss a few, so sorry about that. And as you can tell I have no idea where this is going, though obviously I'm going to write about their winter break because I got to add some more angst. I love Jim and Bones if you haven't noticed by now. Alright so I'll leave you guys here for now (and yes there will be a Christmas chapter as well). Live Long and Prosper.**


	35. Chapter 35

**"When you're with people: keep your head up, let your feet glide, smile and laugh like you love life, and let your heart be free. When you're by yourself: keep your head down, let your feet drag, hurt and cry like you hate life, and let your heart be chained; because that's how you truly feel."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 35**

 **(Warning: sexual content)**

Jim grins happily despite the glares being sent his way. He shakes Professor Nimoy's hand and the instructor pats him on the shoulder. Nimoy gives a few words about his performance and why "Jim Kirk deserves" to become his assistant. It's official, he's top of his hand to hand combat class. Of course, this will entail more duties and responsibilities on his part, but it also allows a more flexible schedule.

He gives Professor Nimoy his thanks and gives a smug smirk to his classmates as Nimoy calls the end of class and they're all dismissed.

Just as he's heading to grab his bag Finnegan shoves his shoulder and he stumbles a few steps without any sort of grace.

"Asshole." He mutters quietly, ignoring the bully and slinging his gym bag over his shoulder to leave, but Finnegan steps in front of him, "Hey, Jimmy where you going?"

"Going crazy if you don't get out of my way." Jim replies, rolling his eyes.

Finnegan huffs, "Assistant huh? Maybe I should test those fighting moves of yours sometime?"

Jim manages a lousy snort, "Jake, last time I sparred you, I won. Or do you need a friendly reminder who's better?"

"That was in a class friendly environment Jimmy. I'm talking real-world here." Finnegan pulls him through the exit with an arm about his neck. Jim's not quite where they stand anymore, especially after his drug ordeal, though he is certain that they're not friends.

"Finnegan, I'm not fighting you." He pulls away, but the man grabs his shirt, forcing him up against the wall, his heart skips a beat, "Take your hand off, shit-bag." He growls, and Finnegan gives him a happy grin, "I'll see you later Jimmy."

Jim shakes him off and leaves, his stomach feeling unsettled by Finnegan's last words.

One more class, he just has one more class to get through and he'll be complete with semester one.

He trudges along, the cold nipping at his nose and cheeks. Jim makes it to Bones' dorm, waving his hand over the sensor. It complies instantly. Bones stopped locking his dorm on the days Jim had hand to hand, so he could get back in (though technically the southerner didn't have to do it today since Jim did sleep at his own room, finally).

Jim smiles at his friend's thoughtfulness, or forgetfulness, as he plops onto the couch. He breathes a sigh and smells the familiar aroma of Bones. It's almost becoming nonexistent because he's gotten so used to the smell. Now it's his own room that smells foreign to his nose.

Waiting for the southerner to waken, since it's almost seven in the morning now, Jim pulls out his Xenolinguistics textbook, skimming over the languages. He has to read it aloud quietly to himself, and he shuts his eyes and mumbles the words to himself to make sure they're still there.

Unfortunately for him, so far Uhura has been dominating his class, despite his studying efforts to get to the top.

It's nearly eight when Bones emerges from his room, dark hair ruffled by sleep, eyes warm, and lips stretching with a yawn.

"Mornin' Jim." Bones greets lazily, walking by just to smoother Jim's hair into his blue eyes, "Ow, Bones!" He complains, tossing a pillow over his head to hopefully connect with the southerner's face, but the only sound that comes is a disgusted grunt and a plop as the pillow hits the floor.

"Well you certainly don't have eyes on the back of your head." Bones comments with that rough drawl, always thicker in the morning hours.

"If I did the only thing I'd use em' for is checking out your ass." Jim replies smoothly, grinning to himself; all he gets is a huff from Bones as he no doubt shakes his head.

Jim continues reading until Bones settles down onto the couch beside him, chewing on a banana.

"Sleep good?" Jim asks, closing the book, Bones nods tiredly, "Yeah, I still feel asleep."

With a sigh he stretches, sinking further down into the couch.

"Did you eat?" Bones implores, nudging him in the ribs, Jim jerks away from the jabs and laughs lightly, "Ehh."

"Damn it kid, you gotta eat sooner or later. You're going to turn into skin and bone at this rate."

Jim stiffens, heart skipping a beat in his chest. Shit, his chest hurts. It's as if subconsciously his body knows the Anniversary is coming around, haunting his body and driving it to starvation. Christmas time is going to be so much fun.

This month of December is going to be hell. He gets to mourn Tarsus VI, somehow celebrate Christmas, party for New Years, and get shit-faced drunk for his dead's memorial.

"Hey, kid." Bones prods him, "You awake?"

"Uh-huh." Jim replies, rubbing his face, elbows on knees as he leans over.

He just has to get through this day, then he can spend his break holed up in a bar, drinking away his thoughts and memories into the savory bliss of hard liquor.

"I got my Xenobiology final, what about you?"

Jim mentally sighs, collecting his thoughts to the present, "I got Xenolinguistics."

Bones huffs, "You going to beat Uhura?"

"Probably not." He admits drowsily, willing some life into his voice, but Bones notices, "How'd your combat training go this morning?"

He smiles as he remembers the event, "I got awarded the assistant to instructor!" Jim beams and Bones meets the cheerful grin, "Good job kid, I'm proud of ya."

His heart lurches from his chest and he has to steady his emotions. No one's ever been proud of him before, at least not verbally. Jim wishes to say this, but his voice is caught in his throat so instead he offers Bones one of those smiles, his "thank you so much" grin that he just knows warms up Bones' ice-cold heart.

Bones seems to understand because his face goes expressionless for a moment, before he grins reassuringly, slapping a hand onto his shoulder before vacating the couch. Jim's left to his own devices to study for his Xenolinguistics test.

The southerner leaves shortly before nine am for his Xenobiology final, and Jim heads out of the comfort of Bones' dorm afterwards. Winds are beginning to build up and the skies have grayed. The trees have lost most of their color and the grass has turned dormant.

With a sigh heavy his lips, Jim trudges along the old familiar path to his own dorm room, his mind taking him there absently. Every stump, hole, and crack are easily evaded through muscle memory. He's thankful for the silence of the campus, about a third of the students have already finished up their finals before the Friday, taking off early to see gleeful families presumably, unlike Jim.

He makes it to his dorm in one piece, using his ID card to unlock the door, because Francis is so damn paranoid, the muscle man always locks the door. Maybe in hopes of just locking Jim out himself since Jim is commonly known to leave his ID card or other important valuables in his room.

Jim just groans at the mess, shutting the door and mentally prepping himself to clean up. Francis did say they have a dorm check, might as well tidy up now, better than later.

He switches on the TV for some background music, leaving the sports channel on to have old reruns of space races, which are now more strictly officiated than they were before, so the reruns do have potential of containing some illegal bumper races that end with someone blowing an engine. Enticing as the explosions might sound, Jim doesn't give the television much thought as he pulls out a trashcan to start cleaning up Francis' mess.

Jim spends most of his day cleaning and studying, the clock ticking by getting closer to his last final. He spends lunch in Sulu and Chekov's room, the Asian and Russian were excited when they saw the pizza box in his hand. Bones showed up towards the end of the meal, but they saved him a few slices.

With dying energy Jim manages to get to his Xenolinguistics class without rushing through the crowd. Making sure to breathe calmly, Jim grabs a seat towards the back, giving a wink to Uhura as she walks by. The brunette gives him a look, ponytail swishing with the sway of her hips. He licks his lips and his heart pounds unevenly in his chest.

The final is given out shortly after class starts. They're tested in Romulan, Klingon, and Vulcan. Jim feels himself struggling with all of them. He gets Romulan and Vulcan mixed up and he's drawing a blank on Klingon as he stares down at the testing PADD.

Grunting, he rubs his temples and wills himself to remember, searching from previous classes and notes. Somewhere he knows this.

Jim glances up, seeing Uhura, who sits a few rows ahead of him, typing away madly. Languages are easy for her, she already knew several before enrolling into this class.

He sighs, staring back down. He's certain he can bullshit something out of this.

Time passes and soon enough the time is being called and all the cadets return the PADDs to their proper place in the classroom after submitting their final.

Professor Dowling wishes them all a "happy winter break" and mentions something about having a large presentation after break so he said, "not to forget everything over break". Though the cadets didn't give him much attention as they all began to pour out of the classroom doors, happy to get away.

Jim follows the crowd aimlessly until he exits the building, heading for his own dorm room.

He and Bones meet up to do laundry, and by the time they're done, it's dinnertime. They head for the cafeteria after dropping off their now clean clothes. Upon arriving, Sulu and Chekov have already beat them to the table.

"There you guys are!" Sulu waves them over with a grin.

Jim huffs, setting down his plate, "We had to do some laundry."

Bones just nods, sitting right beside him.

Pavel laughs at them, "You two really are the old people of the campus."

"Hush up Pav!" Sulu hisses, smacking him on the shoulder.

Jim and Bones exchange a frown before turning their gazes at the Russian kid, "What Pav?" Jim implores, now intrigued.

Pavel just laughs more and Sulu sighs, "Everyone on campus calls you guys the old gay couple. I mean your guys' friendship is a whole soap opera." Sulu explains.

Jim smiles, nudging Bones' shoulder, but the southerner doesn't seem amused.

"People should keep their noses in their own damn business." Bones grumbles unhappily.

"There is even a betting pole." Pavel continues and Sulu shakes his head, "Betting pool Pav."

"Close enough Hikaru."

Bones nearly chokes on his drink, "Say what?"

He laughs, shaking his head and patting Bones on the back, "What's the betting pool on?"

Sulu shrugs, "Not sure if I should say."

"It's whether or not you two will get married!"

Jim spits out his apple and Bones splutters with the salad in his mouth. They give each other a stare of disbelief. He can't even imagine being committed enough to marry a girl, let alone Bones, who is obviously of the male gender. And he's certain poor Bones is just horrified of the thought of getting married again after his divorce. Yet the idea of them two getting married smooths out their terrified expressions and makes them laugh.

The joke is on everyone else bitches.

They know that, and that's what makes them laugh harder when they both give each other that knowing look.

Bones hooks an arm around Jim, pulling him closer. He lets himself lean against Bones momentarily, "Who'd propose?" Jim asks, eyes gleaming up at the southerner.

The brunette scrunches his nose at him, giving him that southern scowl of his, "Obviously me moron."

"Yeah Leonard is definitely the one wearing the pants in this relationship." Sulu comments and everyone laughs but Jim, his face turning beet red.

"Ha ha, so funny guys." Jim grumbles, letting Bones' arm fall away, and going back to munching on his apple.

With that they change the subject, talking about their finished (or finishing) finals. Then once done eating, they split ways and Jim follows Sulu and Chekov back to the dorms before waving a little goodbye as he reaches his own floor.

Lucky for him he brought his ID card.

By the time he gets settled, a few redshirt officers come in to do the inspections. Francis grumbles his thank you to him for cleaning up the mess, since they'd definitely would've failed if it was still there.

The inspection runs smoothly, and they leave right after.

Jim spends the rest of the night reading, diving into his book. Usually he isn't one for modern reads, he usually reads those of the twentieth to twenty-first century. Yet this time he finds himself reading a new bestseller. A book called "Interstellar Economics and the Change of Scarcity." The book is interesting, but it's also a hard read. Nonetheless Jim enjoys it, so he reads it until eleven at night before he promptly forces himself to set it down and shut off the lights for bed after stripping down to his briefs and a t-shirt.

With exhaustion claiming him, he finds sleep easily in the darkness.

He wakes up early Saturday morning, his skin tingling from the draft rushing through his open door. He frowns as he stares down at his PADD, it's only three am. With a groan he plops back down, willing sleep to come back, but it's placed out of reach when something shatters, startling him.

Mentally punching himself in the face, Jim crawls out of bed, Bones' t-shirt baggy on his frame. Of course, he kept some of the southerner's clothes, he didn't have much to begin with.

"Francis?" He calls softly through his door, peering out into the still dorm room.

With no answer Jim creeps out, noting that the front door has been swung wide open.

Swallowing hard, he continues his investigation into their cramped living room, trudging through with caution. Glancing around he sees a broken bottle behind the couch. Perhaps that's what shattered?

Coldness seeps into his skin.

The front door creaks, making him swivel around, facing nothing but darkness.

"Francis, you there?" Jim asks, trotting over to the door, peeking out.

A force comes from behind him, shoving him out the dorm and onto the floor. Quickly he rolls over to face his attacker.

It's Arendse, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed casually with a smirk on his face.

"Hey faggot, finally done with that doctor huh?"

Jim presses himself up against the wall, debating on running, but Finnegan comes from the stairs, bat in hand.

"Shit."

Arendse chuckles.

Followed behind Finnegan is-who Jim recognizes as Peter Medved, from his hand to hand combat training. The tall blond only must flex his biceps to make even Francis, who is quite large himself, look small.

"Hey Jimmy, how 'ya doin?" Finnegan glides closer, a sly grin on his face.

Jim rolls his eyes, "What do you want now?"

"You still don't believe in no-win scenarios?"

He bites his tongue, hesitating slightly, "Yes."

The smile only grows on the bully's face, "Then I'm not done here. Grab him."

Peter and Arendse lunge down, gripping him by the armpits, hauling him up and pulling him along. Jim digs his heels into the ground.

"Francis!" He shouts, hopefully to wake up some of his sleeping neighbors, but Finnegan rams the butt of the bat in his gut, hushing him.

As he wheezes for breath they drag him outside into the cold November night. He can only pray that campus security actually does their job for once.

They take him around the back of the Roddenberry dorm, where the campus lights don't quite reach. He's forced onto his knees, facing Finnegan as he playfully swings the bats in his hands, a cruel smile creeping on his face.

"C'mon Finnegan." Jim grumbles, shivering from the cold.

"Here's the deal Jimmy, there's no way out of this one."

He rolls his eyes, "You really have to get in one last beating before winter break huh?"

Finnegan shakes his head, pointing the bat at him, right underneath his chin. Jim glances down at it, planning his next move. If he can get ahold of the bat he can take down everybody here, counting on the fact Arendse won't just stab him and Peter won't put him in a bear hug.

But Finnegan seems to read his mind, because the bully drives the end of bat into his nose.

Jim keels over, cradling his nose as the blood runs between his fingers.

"That's for breaking my nose bitch."

He snorts, smearing the blood on his arm before gazing up, glaring the bully in the eyes defiantly, "Screw off."

Finnegan gives a nod and Arendse throws a kick into his side, sending him onto the pavement.

"Listen here slut, either you can beg me to let you go and admit there's no such thing as no-win scenarios, or you can pull down your trousers and bend over, and I'll prove it to you. It's up to you."

Jim shakes his head, keeping his mouth sealed.

"I'm not bluffing Jimmy, I won't hesitate to bend your ass over that railing there."

He closes his eyes, bowing his head.

Please don't do this, please don't do this.

Finnegan starts a countdown, laughing as he does so. Jim makes a silent prayer to God.

"Times up."

Peter and Arendse yank him up. He fights back but all it takes is a whack to the head with the bat to make him stumble into his attackers' arms. They drag him over to the railing, bending him over at the hip.

Hands hold him down as his trousers are pulled to his ankles. Jim clutches the railing, trembling but not from the cold.

"Do you believe in no-win scenarios now?" Finnegan teases, clutching his hips. Jim shakes, feeling Finnegan's warmth spread through his body, "Answer me slut."

"N-no." He stutters, biting his lip.

The sound of a zipper going down makes him nauseous. Arendse and Peter tighten their grip on him, forcing him down, the railing cutting into his sides.

Finnegan fits himself between his legs, pressing up from behind, "You asked for this." He hisses in his in ear.

Jim's biting his lip so hard it's bleeding, the trail of crimson running down his chin.

 _"I don't believe in no-win scenarios…"_

He tries to detach himself from the situation, before it all gets to real, before he can feel his body reacting to the stimulation, before he can realize some parts of him is enjoying this, before a piece of his soul is torn away.

Finnegan is laughing in his ear, Peter and Arendse have let go, taking a step back. Jim can't see straight; his mind is reeling with the throbbing between his legs and on his temple from where the bat met his head.

He wants to fight back, to kick and scream. He wants to punch Finnegan in his damn arrogant face and break his nose again. He just wants his body to stop. He can feel himself enjoying it. He feels heavy and wet. He just wants to close his eyes and cry. He can hear his own breaths hitching in his throat. He can feel Finnegan pulling and pushing against him. He just wants to die.

The bully leans over, grabbing him and giving the last few thrusts by hand to finish Jim off. The slick wetness runs down his legs and he shudders into Finnegan as the sensations settle within him.

Heat floods his face as he falls to the ground.

Finnegan grabs him by the hair, tilting his head up.

Jim looks up, blood drools from his nose and lower lip, and his eyes have watered to the brim. His limbs shake and jitter and his heart is pounding in his ears.

"Do you believe in them now?" Finnegan taunts.

Jim swallows slowly, Finnegan's had him on his knees once before, kneeling before him eyes pleading.

"Yes."

It's not even a whisper, his voice is so raw and broken it's just a horse croak and a slight nod of his head.

Finnegan grins at his response, "That's what I thought."

He's pushed over and abandoned.

Jim watches them leave with hollow eyes, and as soon as he can pull his mind back together he yanks his trousers back on and rushes to the largest body of water he can find.

The ocean.

 **Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS!**

 **Little dark? Sorry. I don't even know where I'm going with this, I just know this is got to end with them packing bags onto the Enterprise, what happens between is up to me I guess. Well, the next chapter will probably be a bit depressing and will be handling some more serious issues of both Bones' and Jim's depression and mental problems. But yes, there'll be a Christmas spin on it, because it's the holiday season sooo. So hopefully you guys are still sticking around for these chapters, I'm not sure who I'm writing them for anymore, but I just hope you guys enjoy them. Anyways I'm going to try to get the next chapter in before the New Year, but if not Happy New Year. Live Long and Prosper.**


	36. Chapter 36

**"If being strong means to hold in your emotions, to smile and laugh when you want to cry, and pretending not to feel, then I don't want to be strong, I want to be weak."**

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 36**

 **(Warning: strong language because our boys are troublemakers)**

"Yes Ma, we're about two hours now, heading onto the last shuttle."

 _"Are you holding up okay? You've been riding in those things for countless hours dear."_

"Yeah Mama, I'm doin' fine…Look Ma we gotta' get boardin' now, I'll be at the house soon okay?"

 _"Alright Len, you fly safe-and take care of that sweet boy, make sure he's holding up okay, alright Len?"_

"Yes of course, I will. I love you Mama."

 _"Okay, I'll see you boys soon, love you Len. Goodbye."_

"Bye Ma."

He racks the comm, turning slowly to peek over at Jim on the bench. The kid is hunched over, picking threads on his leather jacket. Jim's eyes are hollow, dark bags hanging beneath dull blue eyes. His skin has turned unnaturally ashen and pale-even his golden hair seems to have brunt brown.

Leonard's heart clenches at the sight of him.

"Hey, you ready to go, shuttle is about to leave?" He prompts, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

Jim just nods, picking up his backpack and following Leonard onto the last shuttle. The kid remains behind him, and when they show the ticket master their tickets, Leonard has to snatch the kid's ticket from his hands. They sit down after being allowed entry and Jim's still quiet.

The blond hasn't said much since being released from the Medbay on campus, that was Sunday. Jim had stayed with Leonard for the past two days and didn't say anything when Leonard told him they were heading to Georgia on Tuesday. The kid had just shrugged and went back to reading his book on the couch.

Leonard sighs, he just wants the kid to brighten up, to enjoy this trip.

When the shuttle starts up, Leonard has to hold his stomach in. Then, when he throws up into a trash bag the shuttle crew provided him with, Jim doesn't even offer him a glance, the kid's eyes are fixed on the floor.

The last two hours are complete hell, but he's just glad when they finally land, and he gets to lead Jim away to where they'll pick up their rental car.

Everywhere they go, Jim's a step behind. The kid doesn't even reply to Leonard's grumbled bickering, even when it's directed at the stupid blond himself.

Leonard stuffs their bags into the trunk and let's Jim crawl into the shotgun seat of the car.

Rubbing his eyes, Leonard gets into the driver's seat. He shuts the door and starts the engine with the turn of a key and glances over at Jim.

"You gonna say somethin' or nah?" He asks.

Jim doesn't even bother shrugging or looking his way, instead the kid turns towards the window and curls up, eyes no doubt squeezed closed.

Leonard sighs and speeds off, through the gleaming city of Atlanta. Buildings are tall and of unusual design, yet the people seem to be more exotic. Over the decades Georgia Atlanta has become a melting pot of different species, making for an interesting mix of race and culture. Despite the intriguing views, Leonard makes for the fastest way out of the city. When he was a kid everything was different, the most exotic thing one would see in the city of Atlanta, Georgia would be the Orion barber on the corner of the street.

It takes time to get through the traffic and to the backroads, where his Mama lives. It's roughly an hour drive from the city, but it's closed off with the simple rolls of the grassy slopes. The house itself sits on several acres of land, all of which has been own by the McCoy's for generations. The old ranch styled house is around three thousand square feet, containing plenty of room for two grown men and an elderly woman. Leonard still can't believe his Ma lives in that empty house all by herself.

Though despite her age, Eleanora McCoy keeps herself busy with the company of her hens. She constantly is baking sweet goodies and shipping them off to the local elementary school a couple miles out.

When they finally pull up onto the gravel driveway of his childhood home, Leonard eagerly opens the door to breathe in the familiar air.

"Hey, Jim we're here." He says softly, but the kid doesn't stir from his curled position.

Frowning, he peeks over the kid's shoulder. The blond is wiped out, sound asleep. Leonard smiles, Jim hasn't had much sleep since getting out of Medbay and it isn't surprising that he fell asleep now.

Hauling himself out, he takes the bags out of the trunk and leaves Jim in the car, he'll come back for him later. Before he can even knock on the door, it's swung open and he's met by the small figure of his mother, white curly hair held up in a bun, her wrinkled brown eyes shine brightly and the smile on her face lights up his world.

"Ma!"

He drops the bags on the porch and wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Oh Len, I'm so glad you could make it." Mama says, peeling apart and adjusting the navy-blue apron around her neck.

"I'm glad I could too." He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead before proceeding to pick up his duffle bag and Jim's backpack from the floor.

"Now where's this sweet boy I've been hearing about Len? Don't tell me you forgot him on the shuttle dear." His Ma scowls at him as she lets him through the door, following close behind.

Leonard chuckles, "Uhh no Ma, I didn't leave him behind. Jim's asleep in the rental. He hasn't slept much lately." He explains, and his Mama's face softens, "Okay then, why don't you carry him in here and I'll make some space on the couch."

He frowns, Jim's fairly heavy, almost the same size as himself, almost.

"I dunno Ma."

"Leonard, go get that boy, bring him in bridal style if you hafta' dear." She tells him sternly, fluffing up a pillow and heading over to pull out a blanket from the closet.

He sighs, "Alright, I'll be right back."

Leonard leaves the house once he's set their things by the back of the couch, heading over to the car. He picks up the keys where he'd left them in the driver's seat and comes around to open the passenger's door. Jim doesn't even move in his sleep as he swings it ajar and stuffs the keys into his pocket.

"Alright, here goes nothing."

He unbuckles Jim carefully, slipping his arms beneath the kid and slowly edging him out of the seat until he can heave him fully into his arms. Though, Jim's lighter than he appears. From the sudden movement Jim opens his eyes, arms automatically gripping around his neck. The kid blinks absently up at him, probably too tired to process anything.

Leonard smiles down at him, closing the car door with a kick and walking over to the house, feet crunching on the gravel.

"Just go back to sleep kid."

Jim nods against his chest, eyes snapping shut.

Satisfied, he brings Jim into the house without much difficulty. His Mama has the couch ready, holding the blanket in her arms, the cushions cleared of any food crumbs or magazines. Leonard comes around, laying the kid slowly onto the couch.

His Ma then drapes the blanket over Jim and smooths down his messy hair. Leonard unties his boots and gives a tug, freeing Jim's feet.

Mama gives Leonard a kiss on the cheek, "How's the poor boy holding up?"

He has to sigh and compose himself, "I don't know."

She rubs his back gently, both of them staring down at Jim's sleeping form. Then with a mighty huff she pulls Leonard over, "You must be starving, we can talk and eat in the kitchen."

Leonard nods obediently, following his Ma into the kitchen, sitting himself at the table. His Mama brings around a tray of homemade sandwiches, causing his stomach to growl. He hasn't eaten since this morning, and it's now five in the afternoon.

"Thanks Mama." He smiles, taking a sandwich greedily and taking a rather large bite. His Mama takes a seat across from him, sitting with hands clasped in her lap.

"Tell me what happened dear. I'm sure it'll help take some of the weight off your shoulders." She implores.

Leonard can feel his chest deflate at her words. He swallows slowly, sighing.

"I'm fine Ma."

His Mama scowls deeply at him, "Len dear, its taking a toll on you, I can see it on your face. If you don't want to talk about it to me, talk to him dear, for your sake and his. The poor child looks like death on the couch."

Leonard's lips twitch in a slight smile at his Mama's firmness.

"It's just…ever since I found him Ma, he won't eat, sleep, or talk. I barely got him to take a shower this mornin'. I helped him pack last night but even then, he didn't even want to take one of his books he loves readin', he's just so tired all the time. I don't know what to do Ma."

Mama reaches over, rubbing his arm gently, "Len dear, he's just trying to process what happened. Look I'm glad you told me what happened right away, but did Jim ever tell you himself?"

Leonard shakes his head. While Jim had been in Medbay, Leonard had commed his mother, telling her the terrible news and knowing fully well that she'd be able to help when they arrived at Georgia. Also, it was easier to tell her over the phone rather than in person, he'd breakdown if he did it in person.

His Ma sinks back into her chair, "Then get him to talk Len. Just like you did, he needs someone to talk to as well."

Leonard finishes his sandwich and he and his Ma talk about simpler topics. Like Christmas plans and how his first semester has come along.

It's around eight in the afternoon, his Ma has the news on the TV while she finishes cooking a late-night dinner, with some salads and homemade biscuits.

Jim finally comes around; the first indication of his wakening is a small whimper as he shifts on the couch. Leonard pretends, for Jim's sake, not to notice so the kid can gain his bearings in privacy. Instead he keeps his gaze fixed on the TV, sitting in the armchair.

The blond sits upright, rubbing his eyes and wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth with a sleeve.

"Hey sleepy-head." Leonard greets, offering the kid a smile, but Jim's eyes are elsewhere, looking about and squinting as his brain wracks for the answers.

"You fell asleep on the way to my Ma's house." Leonard informs him, Jim just nods, stripping himself of his jacket before snuggling back down into the blanket and cushions.

Leonard lets Jim off the hook for the time being, waiting for his sweet Mama to finish up their small dinner.

When she calls them over, confusion floods the blond's face and Leonard rolls his eyes at the kid, gesturing him off the couch and towards the kitchen. They get seated around the table and his Ma serves them each a bowl of salad and plush bread roll.

"Thank you, Mama, dinner looks delicious."

"You're welcome Len." Mama calls back, grabbing her own food before sitting with them.

"Len dear, would you like to say-" She pauses as Leonard has the fork almost in his mouth, "-Leonard Horatio McCoy, where are your manners?"

"Ma!" His face turns rosy red.

"We haven't said Grace yet." She declares, turning to Jim, "Sorry sweetheart, Len's a forgetful boy."

Jim's lips almost twitch into a smile, they almost do.

"Now Leonard, would you like to say Grace before you shove that unblessed food into your mouth?" She gives him a tenacious look.

Leonard grins, setting the fork down with a light clatter, "Of course Ma."

He reaches his hands out; his Mama takes it casually and Jim imitates her after a moment's hesitation. Leonard gives a quick prayer of Grace, blessing their food in God's name before announcing "Amen."

They then begin to devour their food, after Jim gives a questioning look at his food, and Leonard's Ma tells him she made sure that "there's nothin' you're allergic to in there child." His Mama then rants on and on about how happy she is to see them, and starts to ramble about the seasonal weather and that somehow leads to her "pretty" hens.

Leonard just laughs and smiles. He's missed his Mama, even when she likes to brag over her prized chickens, claiming "most people don't own chickens nowadays, especially free-ranged ones."

He takes a glance at Jim. The kid has taken a few bites of his salad, and nibbles on the bread roll. Unlike the blond, Leonard has almost cleaned out the bowl, and his bread roll is nicely resting in his stomach. His Mama has about finished all her food.

"Now Jim, are you not hungry much child?"

Jim shakes his head, mouth slightly agape as he debates speaking up. But it's like Jim's voice is physically restrained, not even a hoarse croak escapes his chapped lips. Yet his Mama smiles gently at him, "It's quite alright child, I'll save this for later, would you like that?"

Mama stands up, ready to grab Jim's dish.

The blond nods gratefully.

"Alright dear." His Ma says, patting Jim's shoulder tenderly before taking his bowl and bread, placing them over on the counter to cover in plastic wrap to store in the fridge.

In the meantime, Leonard finishes up his food and clears both his and his Mama's dishes, placing them carefully in the sink.

"Len dear, I can wash those. Why don't you take Jim to get washed up with some clean clothes? I'll prep the guest bedroom."

"Are you sure Ma?" He prompts, and she just nods, "Of course dear," then on a quieter note, "take care of him Len."

Leonard smirks, "Yes Ma." He places a kiss on her cheek before turning to Jim.

The blond has sunken into his chair, seeming to be glued to the spot in utter exhaustion, physically and mentally. Leonard briefly closes his eyes, he must take care of Jim, the kid needs him to be strong. Jim needs him now, more than ever.

"C'mon Jim, lemme show you to the bathroom." He gestures.

Jim excuses himself from the table, pushing the chair in and following Leonard, head bowed like a shy kid at the first day of school. Leonard lets him pick up his backpack before proceeding to take him down the hallway, flipping the old light switch.

"This," he says, opening the door, "is the bathroom. Just wear whatever stuff you brought with you. By tomorrow I'm sure my Ma will have some extra clothes for you to wear." Leonard tells him and the blond just nods.

"Alright, don't take too long, I think my Mama is eager to put us to bed." He laughs lightly and Jim just nods, heading into the bathroom.

Leonard's smile falls from his face as the kid shuts the door, not speaking a word.

He takes a shaky breath, willing himself to calm down. Jim will be okay, he just needs some time to process, that's all.

While Jim showers, Leonard helps his Ma prepare the guest bedrooms. Luckily, he and Jim don't have to share a room, though as his stomach coils each time he thinks about Jim having to spend the next couple weeks sleeping alone in a room, he's not too sure if that's a good thing.

"Len, he'll pull through, you know that right?" His Ma asks, straightening out the sheets of the bed and fluffing the pillow. Leonard nods, "Yeah, I know Mama, but I still worry."

She sighs that mother sigh, "I know Len, but you'll take care of him, just like you do for everyone else." She comes beside him and gives him a quick hug.

Leonard swallows, blinking away any building tears, and watches his Ma dust off the dresser.

Soon after Jim finishes up in the shower, heading into the guest bedroom due to the sounds of Leonard and his Ma talking. Leonard greets him with a smile, the kid looks so young in those red plaid sweats and baggy white t-shirt that Leonard is certain is actually his. The blond's hair is still wet, and his cheeks are slightly flushed from the heated water.

"Jim dear, this is where you will be sleeping, if you ever need anything, I'm the door at the end of the hallway. Don't be afraid to knock. Len will be the next room over from you."

Jim nods.

Leonard exchanges a sad look with his Ma.

"Alright, goodnight Len," She gives him a kiss and turns to Jim, giving him a hug, causing a terrified expression to appear on his face, "and goodnight Jim dear, sleep as long as you like."

The blond gives a little nod.

"Night Ma. Love you." Leonard replies after a moment, "Love you dear." She responds as she leaves through the door.

He waits until he can hear his Mama go into her own room before making a move, "Hey Jim, if you need anything, I'll be right on the other side of this wall okay?"

Another nod of his head.

"Okay, goodnight Jim."

He heads through the door, going into his own room after grabbing his duffle bag from the living room. Leonard digs out his pajamas and takes a quick shower. By the time he gets out, Jim's door is shut, and the lights are off. When he peers over to listen, the only sound that is heard is the soft hum of the ceiling fan spinning. He can only hope the kid is sleeping peacefully.

With that thought in mind, Leonard goes to bed, expecting tomorrow to be a better day.

He doesn't wake up until late Wednesday morning, around eleven am. Thankfully his back isn't achy he notes as he stretches and lets out a loud yawn. He pulls on some socks and leaves the room, rubbing his eyes and scratching at his curling hair.

The smell of freshly cooked eggs reaches his nose, and immediately his mouth begins to water.

"Hey Len, there you are." His Ma welcomes him from the kitchen as he steps into the living room, "Mornin' Mama."

She scoffs at him, "Barely."

He laughs and kisses her lightly at the hairline, "Where's Jim?" He asks, noting that the kid's door had been left open and the room empty.

His Mama sighs sadly, "He's outside on the porch, been out there for about an hour now. I can't get him to come inside Len. You wanna see if he's eatin' any of his eggs dear?"

Leonard huffs, "Yeah Ma."

She catches his wrist before he leaves, "Before careful with him Len."

"Of course Ma."

He heads for the door, braving a breath before opening it, finding Jim on the porch steps.

Jim doesn't glance over his shoulder as Leonard shuts the door and walks up behind him. Leonard sighs, sitting down a step above the kid so he can't see if Jim's crying or not. It's the small liberties that Jim will notice and pick up on. Leonard doesn't want him to feel trapped at his house.

"Did you sleep okay?"

The kid nods, he just damn nods his head like he has been for the past three days. Leonard just wants to throttle his neck and force the words out of him. But he reclines from doing so.

"My Mama's wondering if you ate any of your eggs? She's pretty proud of her chickens and she'd be disappointed if you left her cookin' untouched."

Jim just hands him the empty bowl, not sparing a glance.

"You wanna come inside?"

He shakes his head.

"Alright Jim, you want me to stay?"

Another shake.

With a sad smile Leonard stands, "Okay kid, have it your way. But just know you'll have to talk eventually. I worry about you kid, and I just want to know if you're okay." He says and heads back inside, and he's certain Jim actually turned his head to look back, but the door had already been shut.

He doesn't say much to his Mama, instead they eat breakfast at the coffee table in the living room, watching the morning news. Jim comes inside twenty minutes later, still looking frail. Yet somehow, his Mama manages to get some coffee into his system and gets him to play a few board games. The kid still hasn't spoken a word, but dear god, Eleanora McCoy knows how to care for him, in that tenderly way that only mothers know how.

They fail to get lunch in him, but by dinner he eats his salad from the night before but refuses to eat the bread. Leonard still considers it a win. His Ma retires for the day at eight pm, saying "she isn't a party animal" and that "I have to be up early tomorrow mornin' to feed the chickens." Leonard had just scoffed and kissed his Ma goodnight. This left Jim and Leonard on the couch, the fireplace flickering as the embers die out in the ash. The TV is murmuring but all Leonard can focus on is the blond head beside him.

The kid is slumped over, head resting on the armrest and eyes glued to the fireplace.

"You wanna talk?" Leonard prompts, taking a side glance at Jim to see if he'll look over. Jim remains frozen, until he finally shakes his head.

"Okay, I can wait."

Time ticks by, and Jim stays true to his word, but so does Leonard, stubbornly waiting to see if he can beat Jim in the long run. Yet the kid just lays there, blank and lifeless as his tired eyes blink at the TV.

Leonard can feel himself sinking further into the couch, eyes drooping. His breathing is slowing, and his vision has blurred. He fights to stay awake, trying to shift his body, but in the end sleep claims him.

He's woken from his dreamless sleep some hours later, alone on the couch with a dead fire and a turned off TV. Jim is nowhere in sight.

With a groan, Leonard heaves himself from the couch, taking note that it's one in the morning. Muscle memory takes over as he lets himself walk through the pitch-black hallway, listening into Jim's room only briefly to confirm that he's sleeping before heading into his own room. He changes into some clean sweats and t-shirt before falling back asleep.

Thursday isn't much better than the day before.

Leonard's Ma drags them out into the city to eat lunch, and somehow Jim's quietness in public makes seeing him that much worse. Usually in public Jim's loud and brash, unthoughtful and jubilant. Now he's mute and subdued, speculative and shy. The kid seemed to count how many napkins were at the table just out of boredom, and by the way his eyes were twitching around, Leonard has now doubt the kid could've told him how many people came in and out of the restaurant during their stay.

Afterwards she takes them into a few local shops, buying a few things for their upcoming meals. They lose Jim in one of the larger stores, but his Ma finds the kid outside by the rental car, after searching for quite some time.

Unfortunately, Leonard's anger has begun to boil. The kid has been nothing but built up stress for Leonard. Jim won't cooperate with anything, he's not helping Leonard or himself by remaining quiet and Leonard's had just about enough. He's just so tired of babying Jim, being nice and careful around him because the kid's just so damn fragile.

Marching outside with his Ma, he sees Jim shuffling his feet with his head down by the car.

"Get in the damn car." He growls at Jim; the blond just escapes into the back seat before Leonard can get a good look at his crumbling expression.

Leonard goes to get into the driver seat, but his Mama snatches his bicep, giving him a stern glare, "Leonard."

"Ma, we looked in that store for ten minutes. The idiot should've stayed with us instead of sneaking off. It's his own damn fault," Leonard breathes a sigh, "excuse my language Ma."

"That isn't the point Leonard. He's your best friend and you better damn treat him as such." Mama argues, looking straight into his eyes without blinking, "And language not excused. You know better not to curse to me."

He closes his eyes briefly, composing himself, "Sorry Mama."

She sighs beside him, "It's quite alright Len, let's just go home."

Leonard starts the car, taking a quick glance in the review mirror, seeing Jim's eyes downcast and red-rimmed. The kid makes a swipe at his nose, making a little sniffle he wouldn't have noticed if he weren't looking at him.

His heart pangs in his chest, he has to apologize. But he'll wait until they get home.

The drive back is silent, and Leonard lets his Ma skim through the radio until she finds a station she likes.

Leonard gets the car parked in the driveway and helps his Mama take the groceries inside, and he's vaguely aware of Jim walking over to the car to help. He returns outside to grab the rest when he bumps into Jim at the side of the car. It only takes a split second for Jim to drop the two one gallon containers of milk onto the ground, both breaking on the rocks beneath their feet.

He jumps back, not wanting milk to stain into his shoes. Jim looks utterly horrified.

"What the hell?" He shouts, watching as Jim takes a few steps back as not to soak his shoes in the mess as well. The kid's mouth opens, but he pauses and rubs his face with his hands.

"Can't you just do one fucking thing right? It's so damn pathetic." Leonard tells him sharply, crossing his arms and shaking his head at the blond, "Go grab the damn hose from the porch and wash this down. The garbage is on the left side of the house. I'm goin' back to the store to grab more milk."

Leonard doesn't wait for a reply, and he certainly doesn't go inside to tell his Mama what just happened. He gets into the car and slams his foot on the gas, getting out of the scene as fast as possible.

The tears start to fall, and his hands almost shake, they almost do.

Anger flares in his chest and he finds himself heaving sobs as he speeds down the road. He just yelled at his best friend, his only friend. His best friend that got raped only a few days ago. Leonard just wants to beat Finnegan's ass, yes Finnegan's. He knows it's him, he still remembers that message he received from Francis.

 _I think Finnegan took Jim out last night_

 _But Jim's hasn't come back_

Leonard had gasped, then breathed as the next message appeared on his PADD.

 _I think Jim's in trouble_

He had searched for almost two hours before catching sight of Jim, wet and shivering at the waters edge, daring to jump off the docks into the blacks of the ocean.

Leonard had never run faster in his life. He'd only slowed down when his feet hit the slippery wood of the dock. Jim hadn't turned around, the blond had just stood there, still and quiet like as if he stood there long enough the world would forget and move on.

Somehow Leonard had managed to get his voice out, _"What's goin' on kid?"_

This wasn't some brawl, this wasn't some failed test, and this wasn't another 'someone shamed my father'. Whatever had happened, seem to have destroyed whatever drive, courage, or charisma the kid had. Jim was dead and hollow.

 _"Why are you soaking wet?"_

Leonard had touched his shoulder, the flinch was so hard, it was if Leonard had punched him, tried to push him into the water, or something.

Jim's face had twisted, it was regret, self-loathing, and hopelessness that left his mouth empty and his eyes blank. Usually Jim was hard to read, but Leonard could no longer read something that wasn't there.

 _"I had to get clean."_

Those were Jim's famous last words, they were shallow and cold, almost robotic because there was such lifelessness in his tone. Leonard had just wrapped the kid up in a hug. Jim didn't cry, he just shook, shook so hard his teeth were chattering in Leonard's ear.

Leonard knew what Jim meant by those words, so he took Jim to Medbay and tried to file a report, but Jim refused. While Leonard was gone, because he got kicked out of the room, Jim told them it was a 'sexual activity gone wrong'. The kid didn't want to admit it was rape. But Leonard, he knew it was rape, he knows his best friend had been raped.

And it's all his damn fault.

Leonard angrily parks the car and buys two more things of milk, speeding all the way home, after taking a half hour detour.

Home looks the same, there's no indication that Jim dropped the milk jugs, or that two gallons of milked had seeped into the ground, or that he had yelled at his best friend.

With a sigh he carries the milk up the wooden steps of the porch and opens the unlocked door. He shuts it quietly and puts the milk away in the fridge.

There's murmuring from the hallway, so he follows it, his steps silent.

"He cares too much dear, that's all."

It's his Ma's voice, ringing out gently from Jim's bedroom.

Leonard leans against the wall, listening in.

"I'm sorry he made you feel that way dear," his Mama says and there's a sniffle from Jim, "you feeling any better?"

There's a pause as Jim probably nods his head.

"Alright child, why don't you get some rest? You're still looking quite pale."

There's shuffling and a slight croaking from the springs of the mattress as his Ma gets off the bed, "Goodnight dear, I'll see you in the morning, if you need anything just ask."

Leonard scurries towards the living room as his Ma's footsteps get closer to the doorway.

The lights are turned off in Jim's room and Mama shuts the door.

He sits himself on the couch, rubbing his face wearily. What has he done?

"Nice of you to finally show up. You had me worried sick." His Ma informs him, coming from the hallway to collapse into the armchair.

"Sorry Ma." He apologizes, not lifting his face from his hands.

There's a snort, "Don't apologize to me, apologize to that poor boy in there." She gestures towards the guest bedroom, sighing roughly.

Leonard doesn't reply, instead he pushes his knuckles into his eyes until he sees stars.

"He was throwin' up into the trashcan when I found him." His Ma continues, "And he told me what happened, told me what you said."

"Mama…"

"I can't believe that you yelled at that boy Leonard. You made him feel so guilty he was throwin' up his lunch."

His stomach clenches and his lungs seem to freeze.

"I didn't mean to." He says pathetically, his Mama shifts in her seat, "Then what did you mean to do Leonard? Because you better have a good explanation, I just spent the last half hour calming Jim down enough so he could breathe, the poor boy was having a panic attack because you sped off carelessly."

He slams his mouth shut, clamping so hard his teeth hurt.

"He…" Leonard clears his throat for his voice didn't come, "He had a panic attack?" He inquires, glancing over at his Ma, seeing her sad expression. She nods slowly, "After I got him inside, he got himself worked up over the fact you left."

"Shit." Leonard whispers, shutting his eyes, "Do you think he's asleep now?"

She nods her head, "Jim was tired after everything that had happened, I barely got him from the couch to his bed."

Leonard nods, "I'll talk to him tomorrow then."

His Ma just nods her head again, getting up and walking into the kitchen to prep a little dinner no doubt. They end up eating in silence, just the simple clank of the utensils hitting glass are heard. Afterwards Leonard brings in more firewood and lights it, stirring it around until the flames have climbed higher.

"Have you spoken with Jocelyn yet?" His Ma asks, and Leonard's heart skips a beat. He pauses slightly before speaking, "No."

"Are you going to?"

He shrugs as he sits on the couch, eyes stuck on the flickering fire.

"Probably not." Leonard nearly chokes on his words, he knows what he has to do.

Mama hums, setting her magazine on the coffee table, "How come dear?"

He scratches at his beard, distracting himself momentarily so he can get his voice back, "Because Jim needs me Ma, and I can't help him if I'm frustrated over the fact Jocelyn won't let me see Joanna."

His Mama rises from her seat, standing over him she places her hand on his shoulder, squeezing. Leonard covers her hand with his own.

"You're doin' the right thing Len." She says, and then tilts his chin up to place a tender kiss on his forehead, "Talk to him."

She leaves without saying goodnight, and Leonard's left to watch the fire until it dies out.

Tiredness surges into his muscles as he takes a quick shower, changing into his pajamas, but instead of heading into his room, he goes for the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Always two.

He sits on the couch, pouring the liquid into the first glass and leaving the other one empty.

Leonard's on his third when Jim's door slides ajar, completely quiet. Jim closes the gap between his door and the bathroom's door in two graceful yet hurried strides. His heart lurches for a second, but he remains still, listening to the bathroom door shut with the same determined quietness.

The shower then runs and Leonard ignores it for the time being, focusing his attention on pouring the next glass. But the shower keeps running, and running, and damn it's almost been an hour and it's still running.

With a surge of protectiveness, Leonard heads to the bathroom door, listening in. But just as he's about to knock on the door, the shower stops running and there's a light rustle as Jim dries himself.

Swallowing, Leonard walks back to the couch, sighing heavily. He's always too late.

He downs the rest of his glass and washes them in the sink. Leonard returns the bottle to its proper place and goes to his room before Jim gets out of the bathroom.

Leonard lays in bed, hearing Jim exit the bathroom and pad lightly to his room, crawling into his own bed with the springs groaning.

He shuts his eyes and forces sleep to come upon him.

Early Friday morning he's woken up by his own Ma, she's ripping the sheets out from under him and jostling him awake.

"What, what's goin' on Ma?" He asks hurriedly, sitting upright and blinking the sleep from his eyes, "It's Friday, that means it's time to clean up the house." His Mama exclaims, "Now get up and get dressed."

She then leaves with the swing of her hips and Leonard blinks at her in disbelief.

Grumbling, he gets dressed and leaves his room reluctantly. Only two steps out the door and his Ma is shoving a broom into his hand, "Sweep up dear." She tells him with an evil grin on her face.

He peaks over, Mama's got Jim cleaning up the kitchen, though he looks slightly lost as he searches each cabinet to find the one where the plates go.

"Wait, what time is it Ma?"

His Mama laughs, "It's only six-thirty."

She slips on a coat, her boots already tied tightly to her feet, "I'm going to go feed the chickens. Play nicely Len."

He watches Mama leave through the front door before stepping into the living room and groaning. Her whole damn house has hardwood floors, he's so screwed.

Ten minutes in, after starting up some music on the TV, Jim's voice rings out, catching him off guard, not just by how sudden it came but because the kid actually spoke.

"Where does this go?"

Jim's suddenly behind him holding a pan and Leonard swivels around, clutching the broom almost possessively.

"Uhh," he clears his throat, "that goes underneath the stove."

"Thanks." Jim says softly, voice gruff from lack of use.

Leonard feels the butterflies leaving his stomach and he has to take a deep breath to steady himself. Maybe Jim will be okay, maybe they can get through this.

Though that seems to be the end of Jim's conversational side. They spend most of the day cleaning, only taking breaks to eat breakfast and lunch. His Mama has no shame when it comes to making them work, even outside taking care of the grass. She's got Jim mowing the lawn and Leonard trimming the edges while she's bent down pulling weeds.

By dinnertime the house inside and out is spotless. Jim's collapsed into the kitchen chair and Leonard's chugging some water down by the sink.

"Sit down." His Mama swats him away so she can drain the water out, straining the pasta.

Rolling his eyes, though not where his Ma can see, Leonard sits across from Jim.

His Mama then serves them both each a bowl and glass of water, thanking both of them for their hard work. Dinner is full of mindless chatter between Leonard and his Mama.

Afterwards they take showers and head off to bed, tomorrow they get to kick back and relax and that's exactly what Leonard plans to do.

Though, Leonard ends up 'relaxing' by himself. His Mama runs off saying that she has a few 'errands' to run which means she's going to be gone for half the day, and Jim takes off somewhere around the acres of land his Ma owns. But by the time Leonard gets the energy to go find him, Jim must've long since left the property of the McCoy's.

He tries not to worry much, Jim's a grown adult and can handle himself wherever he goes. Yet Leonard did believe that before and look where that's gotten Jim.

Distracting himself, Leonard turns on the TV and fishes out one of his Ma's books to read. But after a restless hour of reading Leonard sits outside on the porch. He wants to know the minute Jim gets back.

So he kicks back and reads his book into the late hours of the afternoon, snacking on an apple he dug out of the fridge.

"Are there any more or did you eat the last one?" Jim asks, walking up the wooden steps, how Jim crossed the gravel driveway without being heard is a mystery.

Leonard glances up from his book, "There might be one left, not sure."

Just a soft hum from Jim, then the kid sits down on the cushioned swing beside him, and it's odd to have Jim so close again. Leonard closes the book, setting it on the side table.

"Look Jim-"

"Don't bother, its fine." Jim cuts him off, looking down at his hands.

Leonard huffs, "I'm sorry okay?"

Jim nods, "I know…and I'm sorry too."

The kid's shoulders sag and the tension seems to melt from the kid's back.

Leonard leans back, sinking into cushions.

"Some Christmas break this is." Jim mutters and Leonard laughs, "It's only been a couple days, we got plenty of time to make up for it."

"Am I finally going to meet this little girl of yours?" Jim pipes up, glancing to the side to look at Leonard.

He swallows, "I…"

Should he lie to Jim?

"I'm not sure yet, Jocelyn seems pretty adamant about the idea."

His Mama pulls up with her car, ending the conversation. The two of them head over and she waves them off saying "you're not allowed to look or touch! Now get inside!"

On their way inside, Jim gives him a look and Leonard laughs, "Christmas shopping Jim."

They hide out in the kitchen until his Ma is done, the entire time she grumbled about them daring to look, but they reassured her neither of them peeked.

Leftovers is what they get for dinner and Mama tells Jim he can help her make some pie tomorrow morning. Leonard hasn't seen a smile that big on the kid's face in days.

After dinner Leonard collapses onto the couch, sleep edging in, but he has a moment of clarity as he picks up Jim's and his Ma's voice from the kitchen, both assuming that he's asleep on the couch.

"Do you think Jocelyn will let Joanna come? I know how important it is to him." Jim says carefully and there's a soft sigh from his Mama, "I know, I know. Len said he wasn't going to bother askin' though."

Shit.

"Wait, what?"

"He wasn't goin' to ask because he wanted to spend more time with you."

Jim snorts, "That's ridicules, he doesn't need to do that, he needs to spend more time with his daughter, I see him every day."

"I know dear, but he worries about you, you know that. And this break means a lot to him. He wants to spend it with you Jim, dear."

There's watery sigh from Jim and a sharp sniff, "Well if he isn't going to do it, let me. Do you have an address or a number?"

"Jim dear-"

"Please, Eleanor, let me do this for him, it'd mean the world to me."

His Ma breathes heavily, recollecting herself, "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"I just want to repay him for everything that he has done for me. He's been there for me through thick and thin and this is the least I can do."

"Are you sure child? I can just take you Christmas shopping or something."

"No," Jim sighs, "this is what I want to do for him."

Leonard dramatically groans and shifts on the couch, alerting them of his presence.

"Thanks, El." Jim whispers softly.

As Leonard sits up from his fake nap, Jim strolls by heading into his room. He glances over at his Ma, she's sitting at the table, a troubled expression on her face.

"What's wrong Mama?" He implores as he stands up and stretches, she just shakes her head at him, "Nothing dear, don't worry yourself.

He gives her a little smile and goes into his own room, changing into some sleeping clothes.

On Sunday, his Ma drags them to the early first service at her church. She's wearing a soft and warm dress with her coat, and she's got Jim in one of Leonard's old slacks with a formal button up. His hair is flat and falling into his eyes and it just makes him look five years younger. Leonard has shaved his growing beard and he has his hair tamed back, while wearing something quite similar to Jim.

The morning service drags, and Leonard gets his Ma to leave as soon as possible, just after she talks to about a hundred-different people and introducing them as 'her boys' because apparently today Jim is adopted. Though considering Jim's real family, it wouldn't be such a bad idea.

When they get home, his Ma, like promised, let's Jim help her with the pie. She's got him in an apron over his t-shirt and jeans and he's ended up getting flour in his hair and sticky peach juice on his arms. Nonetheless Mama cleans Jim up like one of her own, giving him a sponge for his arms after rinsing his hair in the sink.

"You're unbelievable child!" She exclaims as Leonard nears the kitchen, "Well at least I showed you how."

Jim's grinning with a shrug in his shoulders.

"Now get out of my kitchen boy, go find yourself something to do, I'll get you when the pie's ready."

The blond scurries off and Leonard chuckles, "What was that about?"

His Ma shakes her head, "The boy says no one has ever helped him bake before."

Leonard nods, "What type of pie did you guys make?"

"Peach cobbler."

He sticks around for a little bit, helping his Ma straighten up the kitchen before heading for the bathroom, but he pauses when he hears Jim's voice.

"No-wait. Don't hang up, just give me a minute to explain…Jocelyn just listen for like thirty seconds."

Leonard freezes. Jim's really calling Jocelyn? Behind his damn back. That blond idiot, all he's going to do is make things between he and Jocelyn worse. What does he think he's doing? Leonard can't believe Jim actually has the audacity to do something like this. The time here is supposed to be spent between the two of them, why can't the kid realize that?

"Jocelyn that isn't even fair…well no but-"

He pushes the door open and Jim stares wide eyed at him from the bed.

"Hang up, right now."

"Just give me a minute." Jim hisses and brings the comm back to his lips, "It'd just be for a couple days…"

Leonard takes the couple necessary steps to reach Jim, before snatching the comm from his hand and ending the call with a simple push of a button.

"What the hell?" Jim snaps, getting to his feet.

He crosses his arms at the blond, scowling, "What the hell do you think you were doin' Jim?"

"I asked first."

Leonard narrows his eyes, "Stopping you from calling my ex-wife is only putting an end to one of my many problems."

Jim seems to bristle, "I was trying to help you!"

"Like you were trying to help before?"

Jim gapes at him, "It was an accident Bones, I didn't mean to drop the damn milk."

"Well remind me to never let you help, because all you do is fucking screw up!"

The blond takes a step forward, "Fuck off Bones."

"Isn't that all you do Jim? You run around and screw with other people and when it comes back to bite you get all butt hurt about it and I'm so tired of it." He growls, pointing a finger at Jim, keeping a few inches between them.

Jim blinks at him, eyes hitting the floor, "Why'd you bring me here?"

"To help you." Leonard snaps.

"Then why is it such a strange thing to you that I call Jocelyn to try and help you? It doesn't go one-way asshole." Jim argues sternly, gazing directly into his eyes.

Leonard holds his ground though, "Helping and screwing are two very different things Jim, and what you were trying to do was only going to screw up any chance of me seeing my daughter again."

"And how do you know that?" The blond sneers defiantly.

"Because like I said before, all you do is screw up, and I'm not going to let you fuck this up too."

"Get out."

"Jim-"

"Get out!"

Jim shoves him a couple feet, face red and eyes burning. Leonard exhales a shaky breath, hands slightly raised in surrender, "Jim please."

"Just leave." Jim replies coldly, gesturing towards the door.

He backs away slowly, shutting the door. Glancing up he catches his Ma's gaze, obviously she overheard the argument. With a little look she heads outside onto the porch, leaving the invitation to Leonard.

Leonard steps into the living room and composes himself, wiping any tears that might have formed, before following his Mama outside.

The skies have grayed with heavy storm clouds and the air has cooled to lower temperatures. His Mama is sitting on the porch swing, a blanket about her shoulders. She looks up at him with that solid expression, it's a mask, hiding her emotions, one that he often sees on Jim's face.

With slight hesitation, he sits down beside her, leaning forward to put his face in his hands, "What have I done?"

"I don't know Leonard, you tell me."

"I got so mad at him Mama, I told him he was…I called him a screw up."

A soothing hand rubs his back, "Then apologize Len."

He shakes head at the idea, "It's not that simple." His Mama sighs at that, "Are you sure about that?" She implores.

"Even if it was, he's not gonna listen, not anymore." Leonard continues softly.

She hums, "Then make him listen."

With one last rub, Mama gets up and goes inside, closing the door behind herself.

He's not quire sure how long he sat there stiffly, watching the skies darken further as the sun retreats with the late afternoon. But his Ma comes out with a plate of pie and wordlessly returns inside. The pie is creamy and sweet, and it fills his hungry stomach.

That night he goes to bed, it's already pretty late because he helped himself to a few drinks after his Mama went to bed. But he lays in bed wide awake for an hour, leaving him restless.

Grunting, Leonard gets out, ignoring the fact it's two in the morning, and heads towards the living room, but a certain person is already there.

"Jim?"

"I found the alcohol."

Leonard smiles, the kid could always smell it out.

Remaining silent, Jim slides him a glass and they sit on the couch together, Jim pouring the whiskey. It's only once they've finished the bottle, Jim drinking most of it, that they begin to talk.

"I didn't mean any of it." Leonard explains with a slight slur, "You just annoy me so goddamn much."

Jim laughs, "Well, I dunno what I was thinking when I called that bitch, I should've asked you first."

They stare at each other for a moment.

"I'm sorry Jim."

Jim shrugs, "Well, I'm sorry too."

They go to bed at four in the morning, hoping for a goodnight's rest, but Leonard is still wide awake, and he's only further awakened when he hears Jim through the wall, murmuring in his sleep. The mattress is creaking as Jim no doubt tosses and turns. Leonard should've known that with all the alcohol Jim would get more vivid dreams.

Heaving himself out of bed, Leonard enters Jim's room with caution.

"Jim?"

All he gets is a whimper.

"Hey kid." Leonard sits on the edge of the bed, jostling the kid's shoulder to wake him up. Jim seems to jerk away from him, curling into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut.

"Jim it's just a dream." Leonard tells him, gripping the kid's bicep.

Jim eyes open within that moment and blond kicks out, "Get away Finnegan!"

The blond's whole body collides into the headboard, chest heaving rapidly. His blue eyes are scanning the area and Leonard lets Jim recover himself briefly.

"Talk to me." Leonard pleads with him, pulling himself onto the bed.

Jim just stares at him, mouth hanging open.

"Say something kid."

The blond's eyebrows furrow together and there's a tremble on his lower lip, "I didn't want to do it." Jim whispers.

Leonard gives him a sad smile, "I know kid."

"I screwed up Bones."

"No kid, you didn't. It wasn't your fault."

Jim's face begins to crumble, he's biting his tongue, looking anywhere but at Leonard's face with watering eyes.

"Jim…" He begins gently and he can feel Jim shivering, and he reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder. The blond snags away slightly, shaking his head, "Please…Bones." Jim manages to say through his chattering mouth.

Jim's whole body seems to be fighting the emotions, tensing against the building up tears that are brimming in his eyes. The kid is a storm of regret and hurt, battling against the logical side of himself.

Leonard opens his mouth to tell Jim that it's alright, but instead he gestures with his arms and whispers, "Just c'mere Jim."

They close the distance together, Jim unfolding in Leonard's arms. He rubs Jim's back, hushing him gently. Jim seems to be holding it all together until a hiccup escapes, then suddenly the floodgates release and Jim starts sobbing. The sounds are broken and guttural, the kid's whole body is just shaking in Leonard's arms, so he holds Jim tighter, wanting to keep the pieces together, the pieces that are left anyways.

"I'm so sorry Jim." Leonard whispers repeatedly, all the while Jim cries into his shoulder.

Leonard doesn't leave the room that night, and he doesn't let go of Jim either. He lays there against the pillows, holding Jim to his chest as the blond fights his nightmares. Sleep claims him in the early hours of daylight and the two of them sleep until noon.

He wakes up because his Ma knocks on the door, opening it slightly to peek in.

Leonard shifts, lifting his head up, Jim still past out on top of him.

Mama smiles happily at the two of them and gives Leonard a little nod before retreating, leaving the door ajar.

"Hey," He coughs, placing a hand on Jim's shoulder, "wake up kid."

"Few more minutes…" Jim mumbles, arms wrapping around Leonard's midsection tighter, it would've been embarrassing if Jim were more coherent.

"Jim, it's lunchtime." He nudges the blond again.

"Well, shit." Jim lifts himself up, blue eyes blinking to life, staring into Leonard, "Damn it, did I screw you too?"

"Ha ha, so funny…" Leonard grumbles, then on a more serious note, "You know I didn't mean that right?"

Jim gives him one of those little smirks, "Of course Bones."

The blond makes to slide off the bed, but Leonard lurches forward, snatching his arm with the blond flinching, "Jim I'm serious, you're not a screw up, if anything I'm the one messing up this friendship."

Jim pauses, giving Leonard a look to let go, "I know Bones, and no one's messing this friendship up, it's just life."

Leonard nods and follows Jim off the bed.

"Now, I think there's some pie left, so I'm gonna have me some damn delicious pie." Jim declares, and Leonard shakes his head, "Unbelievable."

The days to follow are slow, and almost antagonizing so. Jim has gained his voice back, along with the return of some color into his face. The bags underneath his eyes have melted away and there's almost a skip in his step. Leonard finds himself performing more eye rolls each day, and he swears he's getting a headache because of it. The bickering he throws Jim's way is always returned with snarky sarcastic comments that make his Mama shake her head in annoyance.

A week before Christmas Leonard forces his Ma to let him bring in a tree, because "what would Christmas be without one?" His Ma had given in and Jim helped him pick out a tree. Though decorating the damn thing was an entirely a different matter. Jim was like the kid the parent lets decorate the tree, but once gone, said parent would redecorate the tree because the kid did an awful job. The blond had to wait for Leonard to cover the tree in lights, and all the kid did was bounce on the couch in anticipation. Afterwards they decorated and Leonard sighed inwardly at Jim's choice of placement. In the end, Leonard switched the ornaments when Jim wasn't looking. Despite the rearrangement of the tree's ornaments, all Leonard earned was a questioning glare from Jim.

When Christmas day comes around, well that's when the real shit goes down.

Leonard had woken up early that morning, there was no excitement, not the type a child would feel on Christmas day, but there was a little buzz of something.

He leaves his room, but the usual Christmas aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls and frying bacon isn't there, just the normal scent of his Ma's candles and the musk of wood. Then he sees his Mama, dressing herself in a coat and pulling on her boots.

"Ma, what's goin' on?" He asks, voice gruff with sleep.

She shakes her head, "It's Jim, dear."

He frowns, rubbing his face, "What about him?"

His Ma's face falters for a moment, and there's a moment of her recollecting herself. Leonard closes the distance between them, clutching his Mama's arm, "What is it?" She stares into his eyes, "He's gone."

 **Author's Note: Why is this chapter so long? I have no idea guys, it just kind of happened all on its own. I know this is supposed to be more Christmas-ish, but this is how it turned out and there'll probably be more Christmas stuff in the next chapter instead of all being jammed in at the end. So, I hope you guys have enjoyed this so far, just know I've been writing this story for over a year now and I've only writing from mid-August to Christmas day, so how long do you think it'll take me to write three years? Anyways thanks for everything guys-oh also there will probably be a New Year's chapter, but it'll probably be like a month late, seeing that the Christmas chapter is coming in late as well, so Happy New Years guys and I'll see you next year. Live Long and Prosper.**


	37. Chapter 37

***No, I'm not dead. Yes, I'm very sorry for the longest wait ever. Life has been crazy, but I think I got it all sorted through. The consistency of updates is going to be very sketchy from now on, so even though this is very short, I hope this will do until the next time we meet***

 **I'll be Good**

 **Chapter 37**

It's funny how life works sometimes. People say if a person works hard enough, the world will reward them. They call it Karma. Those same people also say that if something good happens surprisingly, it's luck, or unlucky for the opposite. They never give credit to the person, they never say "good job!" because all the work was done by some invisible hand that obeys the laws of good morals, because who will be the person to say, "Karma doesn't exist?" No one, because then they're put down for being a pessimist, but in reality, they're just being a realist.

So why is it when a hard-working person only gains more troubles Karma doesn't come in and fix it? Why are the good people being punished?

Jim can only rub his temples and sigh.

He wouldn't consider himself one of those "hard working people" because in all honesty, there are times where he himself is guilty of sloth, one of those seven deadly sins that no person should live their life by. Yet, no matter how many things he's done, there's been more misfortune in his life than fortune. So, Karma owes him one.

Maybe that's why they say "Karma's a bitch," because it takes more than it gives.

That's what they used to say during Tarsus IV. Whenever they lost someone to Kodos' men, they'd all mutter "Karma's a bitch." Because in all reality that kid they lost didn't deserve it, so they didn't forgive Karma, and maybe Karma didn't forgive them either. Maybe that's why Jim still shivers at the thoughts of Tarsus IV. Maybe that's why he's still plagued with the nightmares.

Maybe Karma is passed down through the parents, why else is he born fatherless and basically motherless because Winona didn't want him.

Jim wipes his eyes, because damn it, he's not going to start crying over Karma, because he doesn't believe in it. It was just something to blame while all his children died. Lady Luck never helped him either. Luck was never on their side in Tarsus IV. During those days it was just a game of "what are the odds" with them never being in one's favor, like a giant game of "truth or dare" yet lacking the truth, because only lies slipped past their teeth on Tarsus IV.

Back then, Jim wasn't Jim, he was just JT, the blond skinny kid with fierce blue eyes with a knife in his boot. He slept with one eye open and never missed a beat. He was one step ahead of the game, but never beating the odds.

That's probably why so many bad things happen in his life, he's cursed Karma and he's long since used up his Luck. The odds have always been against him, so why does he even bother anymore?

The damn Universe owes him.

But that's why the Universe gave him Bones.

"Jim?"

He stiffens, looking up from the ground to find Bones standing above him. Jim smirks a little out of courtesy, then glances back down and waits as Bones settles beside him.

"Ya'know, when we first started looking for you, my first thought was that you took off down the road, went to the city-or something. I thought maybe you even wandered off through the fields…" Bones pauses, sighing, "Yet, I find you in the chicken coop."

"Reminds me of home." He replies, picking at the strands of straw scattered about the hardwood floor.

"You used to sit in a chicken coop?" Bones implores somewhat incredulously, in a joking matter. Jim just shrugs, "Only when Frank was mad."

There's a pause, as Jim realizes what he just said and Bones processes it.

"Was Frank your stepfather?"

"Uncle."

"Want to talk about it?" The southerner prompts, but Jim shakes his head, "Not really."

"Right." Bones says more to himself.

There's a collective sigh and a light shuffle as Bones shifts his weight to get more comfortable, "My Ma's waiting for us inside."

Jim nods, biting his tongue. For the past hour he's sat here, feeling alone, neglected, left behind, yet here Bones was, searching rather desperately to find him. He doesn't deserve this.

He chokes on his throat, fighting the sob tearing at his vocal cords.

Bones just leans over and wraps him up in a hug.

The pressure builds in his chest, the anxiety, the hurt, the confusion, it all just overflows, causing tears to roll down his cheeks. He sobs quietly into Bones' jacket, all those emotions falling away with the tears. The pressure slowly eases and he finds himself sniffling with Bones' warm arms about him, just holding, not pushing and prodding.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Jim peels away, wiping his face with a sleeve.

"Let's get inside." Bones prompts after a thorough glance at him.

There's no room for argument as Bones gently, yet forcefully, pulls him out of the chicken coup, leading him inside. The warmth of the house reaches Jim's muscles and he can feel the exhaustion of the emotional depletion sinking deep within him. Yet as soon as Misses McCoy comes around to hug him, he feels a bit of life surge into him.

"Oh Jim, I'm glad you're okay, you had me worried sick dear." She exclaims and she gives him a quick kiss on the forehead.

He feels himself blush at the sudden burst of attention.

"Let's get you boys all warmed up, I have some hot chocolate." She declares and heads off into the kitchen.

Jim and Bones exchange a look, a knowing look; they're about to get spoiled out of their minds, which Misses McCoy will only chuckle and claim that "it's family tradition."

That's how Jim found himself, being welcomed into the McCoy family, where the kitchen smells of heavenly wonders and the door is always open. There's always going to be a nice warm fire burning during the colder months of winter and there's always going to be a spare room. Jim can't even put into words how thankful he is for all of this, it almost brings him to tears when he receives a hand knit beanie from Bones' mother.

But all of it just feels so right.

 **Live Long and Prosper.**


End file.
